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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26219164">still hurts underneath my scars</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/codenametargeter/pseuds/codenametargeter'>codenametargeter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Azure Moon route (sort of), Background Sylvain/Mercedes, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Set during the timeskip, Supporting Character Death, Winter Soldier AU, but with like more shields to the face, mind screwing magic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:47:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>26,725</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26219164</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/codenametargeter/pseuds/codenametargeter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been four years since the Empire declared war. Four years since the Professor disappeared. Four years since Dimitri Blaiddyd was executed for treason.</p>
<p>Felix still fights for what's left of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus but rumors have reached his ears of a mysterious warrior who ruthlessly slaughters enemies of the Empire. No one who has ever seen his face has lived but the stories of this Winter Soldier persist nonetheless. And Felix is going to stop him, one way or the other. No matter what the cost.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. but i knew you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is absolutely 100% what you think it is based on what it says on the tin. I was originally going to just write the first few paragraphs, get this out of my system, and move on. Clearly that did not happen. </p>
<p>Also, if you're wondering if this means Felix is Captain American, Ingrid is Falcon, and Sylvain is Black Widow, you're absolutely right and I highly encourage someone to please draw Sylvain in her catsuit.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There have been whispers about him throughout Fódlan for months. The Winter Soldier strikes without warning and shows no mercy to his victims, many of whom pledge their loyalty to Faerghus. That’s the only thing the stories agree about. The rest is all… bordering on absurd to say the least. Some say he is a hybrid between a wolf and a man. Others say he is a man but that his lone eye glows red, the only warning his victims have before he attacks from the darkness. Still others say that he is the result of Imperial experimentations and is a tool of their will and not a man at all.</p>
<p>Felix thinks it’s all nonsense. Whoever this Winter Soldier is, he’s just a man. And if he’s a man, he can be stopped and he needs to be stopped. At least that’s something he can do for this burning husk of a Kingdom. Dukedom. <em> Whatever. </em></p>
<p>“This is a suicide mission,” Sylvain says as Felix checks the sharpness of his blade one last time. “He’s killed <em> everyone </em> so far.”</p>
<p>“Not everyone,” Felix says. “If he killed everyone, there wouldn’t be any stories.”</p>
<p>Groaning, Sylvain looks up at the ceiling and mutters something uncomplimentary that Felix pretends not to hear. “Felix. Come on. At least don’t go alone.”</p>
<p>“Are you volunteering?”</p>
<p>“I am.” As one, both men turn to look at Ingrid as she strides into the room, already dressed for travel and combat. “I think Sylvain is right but I’m not about to let you go alone, Felix.”</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Felix says with a curt nod. He turns back to his shield, letting his fingertips skim across its polished surface. The Aegis Shield. He’d never really thought of himself as the type to use a shield in combat but ever since his father put Aegis in his hands several years ago, he’s found himself using it more and more, often as a weapon. It’s probably more responsible for the stupid nickname people call him than anything. The next Shield of Faerghus. He’d roll his eyes more at it if both of his friends didn’t have dumb sounding nicknames too and honestly, compared to Ingrid’s, his isn’t all that bad. He just doesn’t think he deserves it when there is no king to shield.</p>
<p>Sylvain stares at her. “Have you gone crazy too? How am I the only sane person left?”</p>
<p>Ingrid doesn’t flinch. “Whatever or whoever this Winter Soldier is, he’s attacking our people. If we don’t defend them, then who will?”</p>
<p>“Come on, I didn’t say that.” </p>
<p>Felix grabs an armored gauntlet from its storage spot and tosses it at Sylvain, hitting him in the chest. “Then put your armor on, pack your gear, and come with us.” </p>
<p>Catching it before it hits the ground, Sylvain passes the metal gauntlet from one hand to the other like it’s a child’s ball. “Is this really about this Winter Soldier?”</p>
<p>Both Felix and Ingrid immediately stiffen and look away. Ingrid tugs at a lock of her shortened hair; a nervous habit she’s picked up since she cut it all off right after everything went to hell. Meanwhile, Felix just wants to break something. He settles for saying, “What’s that supposed to mean?” even though he already knows.</p>
<p>He sets the gauntlet down. “I know you miss him. We all do but even if he’s somehow still alive when we haven’t heard anything, Dimitri’s gone and--”</p>
<p>“I know he’s gone,” Felix snaps, almost clipping his own shoulder as he slams the shield into its place on his back. “That’s why we've had to do everything we’ve done for the last four years.” </p>
<p>“Sure, some of it but--”</p>
<p>“Sylvain?”</p>
<p>“Yeah?”</p>
<p>“Shut up.”</p>
<p>Ingrid steps between them, glaring fiercely. “Cut it out. Both of you.” Sylvain backs off first, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. Petulantly, Felix waits another three seconds before nodding once. She looks back and forth between them to make sure they’re going to stay quiet before saying, “We all miss His Highness. His death…” She doesn’t have to say it. “We can’t replace him but we’re what Faerghus has left.”</p>
<p>Silence fills the room as they all refuse to make eye contact. They all live every day with the weight of what Dimitri’s left behind. Usually though, they don’t talk about it. If they talk about it, it becomes real. Dimitri’s death becomes… Felix curls his hands into fists at his sides. Fuck this war. Fuck the Emperor for starting it. Fuck Cornelia for not having the decency to let their king have a proper burial and leaving them the tiniest sliver of hope. And fuck Dimitri for having the nerve to die and leave them without a king to lead them and inspire everyone and whatever other shit kings are supposed to do. </p>
<p>This is why they usually don’t talk about it. </p>
<p>Finally, shattering the somber mood, Sylvain throws his hands up in the air before linking them behind his head. “Fine. Fine! I give up.”</p>
<p>Raising an eyebrow, Felix asks, “So are you coming with us or not?”  </p>
<p>“Sure,” Sylvain says. “Let’s all go die together. It’s what we promised, right?” And then he winces as Ingrid punches him in the arm. “Ow. Okay, fine. No dying.” </p>
<p>The trick is to get out of their hideout without certain people finding out and by certain people, Felix means his father and Gilbert. So obviously the solution is to go to Gilbert’s daughter for help. </p>
<p>“Well of course I’ll help you,” Annette says as soon as the words are out of his mouth. “But are you sure about this?”</p>
<p>“It sounds rather dangerous if you ask me,” Mercedes says from where she sits nearby, hands busy with her sewing. </p>
<p>Sylvain gestures towards her. “See? It’s not just me.”</p>
<p>Sighing, Ingrid says, “Sylvain, stop.” </p>
<p>Mercedes ties off her thread. “Do you have a plan?”</p>
<p>“As much of one as we can,” Felix says, unfurling the map he carries and laying it flat. It’s clearly marked with the most recent locations of the Winter Soldier’s attacks; all centered around one obvious location that they all know well. “Gautier soldiers are already headed towards Garreg Mach.”</p>
<p>“We’ll follow from a distance,” Ingrid picks up the thread of their admittedly threadbare plan. “If this Winter Soldier attacks them like we think he will, we’ll be there.” </p>
<p>There are so many ways this could go wrong. Both he and Ingrid know it, Sylvain definitely knows it, and from the looks on their faces, so do Annette and Mercedes. Thankfully, none of them say it. Instead, Annette says, “We could go with you. Ashe too if we can get a hold of him in time.”</p>
<p>Sylvain gets there first. “Helping us sneak out is enough of a job,” he says, reaching out and tugging playfully at a lock of her hair. “Don’t worry about us, beautiful.”</p>
<p>The thing is, Felix sees right through his act. He’d rather die than admit it but he knows why Sylvain is at least keeping the others out of this even if he can’t stop Felix and Ingrid from going. It’s the same reason why he’s done a lot of the things he’s done since everything went to hell and, if Felix lets himself acknowledge it, ever since Glenn died. The flirting and teasing isn’t a lie. It just happens to be a convenient shield for everything else. </p>
<p>“--if you’re sure,” Mercedes is saying as Felix drags his attention back.</p>
<p>“We’re sure,” Ingrid says after a quick glance at Felix to confirm. </p>
<p>Felix folds his arms across his chest. “If your old man or mine give you any trouble once they figure it out, go ahead and blame me. They’ll believe it.” The relationship between the remaining Fraldarius men has not improved in the least since the war started which is fine by him. And he’s pretty sure Gilbert never liked him anyways because of how he spoke to the boar prince. </p>
<p>Clearing his throat, Sylvain says, “Hey Mercedes, can I have a word before we leave?”</p>
<p>“Of course,” she says, setting aside her sewing and following him out of the room without another word.</p>
<p>Ingrid frowns. “When did that start?”</p>
<p>“When did what start?” asks Felix.</p>
<p>Annette rolls her eyes and says, “Honestly Felix!”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>She ignores him and turns back to Ingrid. “I think it’s been a few weeks. Mercie hasn’t said anything though.”</p>
<p>“He’s not being… Sylvain, is he?” Ingrid asks.</p>
<p>“I don’t think so,” Annette says and then Felix finally gets it. </p>
<p>How anyone has time for flirting or romance when they’re in the middle of a war is beyond him. Not that he cares about that sort of thing normally. So he huffs and says, “As long as he hurries up. We have a demon to track down and stop.” Annette sticks out her tongue at him in response and then rises up on her toes to kiss his cheek and he lets her because it’s Annette.</p>
<p>He’s not sure exactly what Annette ends up doing to draw Gilbert’s attention but whatever it is is enough for him, Sylvain, and Ingrid to slip out of the Faerghan resistance’s camp and into the woods. They stay off the road until they’re far enough away that the pegasus rider patrols won’t spot them and Felix hates every minute of it. The horse he’s on doesn’t like it either and their discomfort just seems to spur each other’s on. If it wasn’t such a long journey, he’d just suffer the indignity and ride with either Sylvain or Ingrid but none of them wanted to deal with that for hours. They might actually try and murder each other in that situation. At least he knows the mare won’t try and actively toss him into a bush even if she has been known to try and eat his hair if he’s not paying attention.</p>
<p>It takes only a few hours for them to catch up to the Gautier soldiers and for Sylvain to explain the situation to their captain. The man seems perplexed but Sylvain’s their next Margrave so he nods and bows and says, “Yes, milord,” and they all keep marching south. They make camp overnight in a small clearing away from the soldiers and each take watch for a few hours while the others sleep. Just like always, Ingrid takes first, Sylvain takes second, and Felix takes the last watch like he prefers. It makes the most sense since it’s been years since he’s slept past dawn anyways. The only problem is that it gives him time to think. Too much time. </p>
<p>The plan is a risky one to say the least. The Winter Soldier might not even be there or, worse, he might be even stronger than the stories say and Felix will have accomplished nothing but hastening all of their deaths. There are probably worse things that could happen to them than dying fast but he’s just going to grit his teeth and refuse to acknowledge them because he’s not going to let any of them die today. He’s already lost Dimitri twice. He won’t lose anyone else, no matter the cost. Maybe he should’ve come alone. Maybe he should have… </p>
<p>Ingrid sits beside him as the sun starts to rise and silently hands him a roll and a hunk of cheese, keeping some for herself. “I checked the maps again. We should be there before midday.”</p>
<p>“Good,” Felix says, tearing into the bread more out of necessity than any true hunger. He’s not stupid enough to go into battle on an empty stomach. Also because if he doesn’t eat it promptly, Ingrid will take it back and eat it herself. “If we’re lucky, it’ll be a short battle.” </p>
<p>“If we’re lucky, we’ll all make it back to base.” </p>
<p>Swallowing his mouthful of cheese, he turns to look right at her. “We’ve fought worse than this Winter Soldier.”</p>
<p>Ingrid nods and takes another bite of her roll, chewing and swallowing it before speaking again. “You know why Sylvain is being like this, yes?” </p>
<p>“Paranoid?”</p>
<p>“Worried.”</p>
<p>Grinding his back teeth, Felix looks away again but it’s not soon enough because he’s already seen all of the ridiculous emotions in her eyes. “About time he cared about something that’s not women.” </p>
<p>“Felix...”</p>
<p>“There’s nothing for you to fix,” he says, getting to his feet. “Stop trying.” </p>
<p>Sometimes he doesn’t know why either of them put up with him. </p>
<p>He only gets crankier the longer the morning drags on. All three of them are on high alert the closer they get to Garreg Mach. This fits the Winter Soldier’s pattern and if he doesn’t attack the Gautier soldiers, Felix is going to be pissed and not just because his old man is going to try and lecture him. There haven’t been a lot of things that have gone right since Professor Byleth disappeared over four years ago but he wants this to be one of them. </p>
<p>The village in the shadow of the monastery is within sight when they hear the soldiers shout in first surprise and then panic. Without waiting for anyone else to say anything, Ingrid squeezes her pegasus’s sides with her heels and takes off into the air. </p>
<p>“Do you think it’s him?” Sylvain asks as he unhooks his lance from his saddle where he’s had it secured for travel. Felix doesn’t bother to respond because if it’s not, they’ll have shown their hand. Instead, he just kicks his horse into a gallop and Sylvain still manages to pull ahead of him because he likes riding. They see the body of one of the Gautier soldiers before they reach the actual fight and Sylvain swears. “Damn! We should have just ridden with them.”</p>
<p>“We can argue about that later,” Felix says. </p>
<p>The scene that greets them when they gallop around the corner is complete chaos. It’s more than just the not-so-mythical Winter Soldier fighting them. A group of what Felix is pretty sure are opportunistic bandits are tangling with the Gautier soldiers. </p>
<p>And then he sees him. </p>
<p>The Winter Soldier isn’t anything like what the stories say. Mostly. He is a man and not any sort of hybrid creature and neither does he look like one of the strange beings who’d replaced Monica and Tomas back during his time at the Academy. He’s broad chested and dressed in black armor with blades strapped to both hips and a greatsword in hand. The few accents the ensemble has are red and each shoulder pauldron bears different emblems; one he doesn’t recognize and the other is the two-headed eagle of the Adrestian Empire. Shaggy blond hair and a lower face mask cover most of his identifying features but he can still make out an eyepatch covering his right eye and as far as he can tell, the other eye isn’t red. </p>
<p>But Felix doesn’t exactly have enough time to stand there and stare and study him. Ingrid is already in the thick of it, tangling with some of the bandits. Sylvain dives right into the fight to help his family’s men but Felix takes a few precious seconds to dismount and loop his horse’s reins around a fence. He’s useless on horseback so it’s worth the time. </p>
<p>He clashes swords against a bandit first. It’s barely worth calling it a fight. This bandit has clearly seen better days and he definitely hadn’t been trained by the finest swordsmen in Faerghus. And Felix has trained plenty since then. This is nothing but a waste of effort. He could’ve fought this in his sleep. </p>
<p>His latest opponent falls to the ground dead and Felix whirls around to face the next, sword at the ready. But there’s nothing he can do to help Ingrid as the Winter Soldier sends her flying off her pegasus’s back with seemingly inhuman strength. </p>
<p>“Ingrid!” Sylvain shouts from the opposite side of this disaster of a battlefield. Even with magic, he can’t do much else from so far away. And the Winter Soldier is advancing towards her. </p>
<p>Felix doesn’t think, he acts. If any of their group is going to die today, it’s not going to be Ingrid. It’s going to be him. “Fight me!” Felix yells, his shout still cutting across the sounds of battle. </p>
<p>The Winter Soldier halts in his tracks and then slowly turns to look over his shoulder. </p>
<p>Fuck. That’s unnerving. </p>
<p>He has his attention now and so Felix advances as fast as he can manage without breaking into a run. He doesn’t waste any further energy on challenges or banter. Why bother when his sword can do the talking for him? It’s not like this hulking beast of an opponent’s being all that chatty either. </p>
<p>Their swords clash with a sound that manages to cut through the sound of battle. Felix grits his teeth. Whoever this is, he’s not just large, he’s strong as hell too. He can feel each hit in his bones. No wonder Ingrid went flying without solid ground beneath her feet. Everything is going to hurt tomorrow assuming he makes it out of this alive. And if he doesn’t… at least he won’t have to listen to Sylvain say <em> I told you so. </em></p>
<p>Speaking of which... Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sylvain leap from his horse and fall to his knees beside Ingrid’s prone form but there isn’t time to even ask if she’s still breathing because the Winter Soldier is relentless. He has Felix on the defensive now which is the opposite of what he wants. All he needs is a second, maybe two to get out of this and to regain his footing. </p>
<p>Three steps later, the perfect opportunity presents itself and he darts right around the corner of a house. By the time the Winter Soldier rounds it, Felix’s feet are firmly planted. He finally has the advantage and he takes it. The monster doesn’t know what hits him. </p>
<p>What hits him in the face is Aegis.</p>
<p>It’s his turn to stumble backwards, shaking his head to try and clear it. Felix doesn’t give him the time to recover and immediately jumps to the offensive. Now the Winter Soldier is the one taking hasty steps backwards and Felix is pressing his advantage. His opponent might have impossible strength on his side but Felix can tell that <em> he </em> is superior when it comes to swordplay. If anything, he has a nagging feeling that a sword might not be the weapon this Winter Soldier is best with and honestly, he’s not sure he wants to find out whatever that weapon is. </p>
<p>Aegis is slowing him down again and so he dives to the side again, buying himself the moment he needs to return the shield to his back. It’s an error though. A stupid, goddess damned error because the same trick doesn’t work twice and he’s a fucking idiot for thinking it would. And he gets an armored fist to the face as punishment. </p>
<p>Felix hits the ground hard, struggling to remember how to breathe but at least his legs still work and he kicks out, hitting the other man in the knees and bringing him down to the ground too. Immediately, he wishes they were both still on their feet with swords in their hands because he’s <em> good </em> with a sword. He’s got more of a chance than he does grappling like this. He gets in a few hits but the other man gets in more and if his ribs aren’t cracked, he’ll be shocked. It’s not like he’s untrained in this sort of fighting but the Winter Soldier must be twice his size and he’s on his fucking back and <em> fuck </em> if he’s going to die today, he wants to do so with a sword in his hand.</p>
<p>The Winter Soldier hits him in the face first once then twice before Felix manages to get a knee up and slam it into an unarmored spot. He recoils, letting out a sound of anger and pain before lunging forward again, pressing a hand against his chest and uncomfortably near his neck. Blindly, Felix swipes at the hulking man for some sort of handhold and ends up yanking off the mask covering the bottom half of his face. </p>
<p>And then his heart stops as he looks up and realizes just who the Winter Soldier is even though it should be impossible. “Dimitri?” Felix whispers.</p>
<p>For the first time their entire fight, the man falters and frowns down at him as if he’s said something nonsensical. “Who the hell is Dimitri?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. when you are young, they assume you know nothing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Felix knows who he saw beneath the Winter Soldier's mask... doesn't he?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Winter Soldier shows no recognition as he aims a punch at Felix’s head and hits the ground instead as Felix hurls his upper body first to the right and then to the left to avoid the blows. As the beast with a familiar face raises his fist to strike again, Felix keeps on rolling to the left until he’s out from beneath him and can clamber to his hands and knees. He risks unbalancing himself long enough to reach for the knife he keeps hidden in his boot but the Winter Soldier grabs his wrist and twists, making him shout as he tries to yank himself free. </p><p>“Dimitri,” Felix says again, the words coming out as a rasp. He hopes it’ll make him pause again long enough to make a grab for one of the other man’s daggers which are closer than his own. </p><p>It doesn’t. </p><p>Instead, he gets hit hard enough to go flying up into the air and then backwards into a tree a dozen meters away. Only the shield on his back saves him by absorbing some of the impact. As Felix rolls on to all fours, coughing and trying to force air back into his lungs, certainty slides into his mind instead. Only a Blaiddyd has that sort of strength. And he knows what he saw.</p><p>The monster with his king’s face advances towards him slowly, a sword in hand again. He’s taller than he had been at the Academy and his sweat soaked hair falls over half his face but now that Felix has seen him without his mask from no more than inches away… He’d have to have both of his own eyes gouged out to <em> not </em> know Dimitri Blaiddyd, even changed as he is. </p><p>“Felix!” </p><p>He ignores the shout, instead forcing himself to his feet, swaying slightly as he does. A sword isn’t a walking stick but if he had his in his hand, at least he could lean against it. No one would see. But all he has is his shield. Shifting his weight, Felix lets his right hand drop down to his side. From there, it’ll be easy to grab the knife in his boot he’d reached for before because he’s not about to go down without some sort of a blade in his hand. </p><p>A moment later, he stumbles backwards as the ground beneath his feet shakes; a side effect from the lightning striking the ground in front of the Winter Soldier and sends him flying backwards. A moment after that, Sylvain is there with Felix’s horse’s reins in hand. “Get on.”</p><p>Felix glares. “I need my sword, not a horse.”</p><p>“Forget about your fucking sword!” Sylvain yells at him. “We need to go. Now!”</p><p>“You don’t understa--”</p><p>“Ingrid’s hurt and I’m not losing anyone else today.”</p><p>Sylvain’s tone leaves no room for argument no matter how badly Felix wants to and so he spits out a vile curse, shoves his foot in the stirrup, and swings his other leg up and over so he’s in the saddle. He holds on tightly to the mare’s mane as they and the remaining Gautier soldiers kick their horses into a gallop. He chances a quick glance behind but it is enough to see the Winter Soldier push himself to his feet, unsteady but alive. From this far away, it’s enough to make Felix doubt what he knows he saw but then Sylvain yells again and he has no choice but to return his attention to his horse and the road ahead. </p><p>They ride hard. Once they’re outside of the loose boundaries of the impromptu battleground, Felix spots Ingrid’s pegasus above them flying lower than usual. He’s not sure how long it’s been when Sylvain holds up a hand, signalling them to stop by a stream. </p><p>“Fifteen minutes,” he says, with a touch of authority in his voice that expects to be respected. “Davin, stand watch. Everyone else, refill what canteens we have and tend to our wounded.”</p><p>“Yes, milord,” the handful of remaining soldiers say.</p><p>Ingrid’s pegasus is already landing as Felix slides off his horse, subconsciously opening and closing his hand with no sword hilt to grasp. The minute he sees her pale face, he bolts to her side. “It looks worse than it is,” Ingrid says, letting Felix help her down. </p><p>“It doesn’t look good,” Felix says. With as much blood as there is on her armor, he’s surprised he didn’t see it from the air. He helps her sit and then turns to rummage through his packs that are miraculously still tied to the saddle. Mercedes insists that everyone always carry basic medical supplies with them into the field especially if she wasn’t going to be there. It makes sense since none of them have even a fraction of her talent for Faith magic. Carefully, he pulls away the makeshift bandage and immediately frowns. “Ingrid…”</p><p>“I’ll be fine,” she says. “It’ll be a better scar than yours.”</p><p>“Heh.” There’s no real amusement in the sound. He knows exactly which scar she’s talking about even though they’ve all run out of fingers to count them on. It’s longer than his hand and runs up his right leg. It’s three years old at this point and at least he can say he killed the Adrestian bastard who gave it to him. </p><p>By the time Sylvain makes his way over to them, Felix has mostly finished bandaging Ingrid’s side and he thinks there’s a little bit more color in her cheeks. He hands them both full waterskins and holds a chunk of dried meat just out of Ingrid’s grasp. Sylvain says, “Drink something first.”</p><p>Ingrid sighs. “Sylvain…”</p><p>“I can eat this instead, if you don’t want it…?” Sylvain says, moving as if to take a bite of meat but she lunges up and grabs it. “See, that’s how I know you’ll be okay.”</p><p>Dropping her waterskin into her lap, she reaches out to lay a hand on Sylvain’s arm but doesn’t say anything. Sometimes, none of them have to. Felix likes it better that way. In a surprising move, Ingrid tears off a piece of the jerky and offers it to Felix. Both of his eyebrows shoot up. “Did you hit your head too?”</p><p>“You’re both awful,” Ingrid says, popping it into her mouth instead. </p><p>They sit in silence for another few minutes. It must be getting close to the fifteen minute mark but Sylvain doesn’t seem to be in a hurry. Felix curls his free hand into a tight fist, short nails digging into his palm hard enough to sting. “The Winter Soldier,” he says without any preamble. “Did you see his face?”</p><p>Ingrid shakes her head. “No, he wore a mask.”</p><p>“You didn’t see anything?”</p><p>“All I could make out was his eyepatch and that his other eye was blue. Why?”</p><p>Felix stares at the dirt, suddenly wondering if he was wrong and he’d just seen what he had wanted to see. But what he’d seen… his mind couldn’t have possibly wanted that. For years, he’s harbored a belief that Dimitri might still be alive somehow because Cornelia never displayed a body which made no sense but with each passing year, a little more of him has wondered if it’s pointless to hope because surely by now… But this would explain…</p><p>“Felix?” The sound of Sylvain’s voice makes his head jerk up. “Still with us?” </p><p>He nods and takes a drink of water to buy himself some time. “You need to know something. About the Winter Soldier.”</p><p>“Excuse me, milord?” A Gautier soldier approaches them but lingers a few steps away. </p><p>Sylvain turns to look up at him. “Everyone patched up enough to move?”</p><p>“Yes, milord.”</p><p>“Back to it then.” Sylvain clambers to his feet, the sound of his knees creaking audible even over the clanking of his armor. He offers a hand to each of them. Felix takes it because he’s too tired to argue and finally starting to really feel every blow he’d taken. </p><p>They both make it a point to not obviously watch as Ingrid stands too and in return, she only quietly sighs at their worry instead of sighing and rolling her eyes. She asks, “What were you going to say before, Felix?” </p><p>He shakes his head. “It can wait until we’re back.”</p><p>It’ll be hours still before they’re back to their stronghold. Maybe by then, Felix will figure out the words to explain what he’s seen. <br/> </p><p>~<br/><br/></p><p>The Winter Soldier does not have a name.</p><p>The Winter Soldier does not have a name and he does not have a life like another person might. What he has is a purpose: to serve his masters in the Adrestian Empire.</p><p>He kneels before one of them and stares straight ahead, having returned so recently from his latest mission that blood still stains his face, his uniform, his hair. It does not bother him. It is only blood.</p><p>“Report,” says his master. </p><p>“My mission failed,” the Winter Soldier says, tone emotionless because he has none. “The Gautier troops had unanticipated back up. I only killed half of them.”</p><p>Thales frowns. “What sort of back up?”</p><p>He does not pause before answering. “Three fighters. Nobles. Knights maybe. Two on horseback. One on a pegasus. No house heraldry displayed.”</p><p>“Did you recognize them?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Are you sure?” </p><p>In a breach of protocol, he looks up. “I do not understand.”</p><p>His master reaches down and takes his chin in one hand, turning it this way and that. He is looking for something but the Winter Soldier does not know what. Whatever it is, it seems to be found and he releases his chin. “Tell me more about them.”</p><p>“A blonde woman rode the pegasus. She wielded a lance like she knew how to use it.” Thales nods for him to continue and so he does. “Both riders were men but one got off his horse. The red haired one stayed on his. All black armor. He fought with a lance and magic.”</p><p>He doesn’t realize that he’s stopped talking until his master prompts him. “And the third?”</p><p>The Winter Soldier blinks but cannot rid himself of the image of the third fighter nor the name he spoke. “Short. Dark haired. A swordsman.” For the first time he can recall, he hesitates. </p><p>It does not go unnoticed. “What else?”</p><p>“He…” The Winter Soldier blinks and looks up again. “He knew me.” </p><p>“Was he someone who escaped from you before?”</p><p>For a moment, he considers the question and mentally reviews his previous missions. “No.”</p><p>Thales’s frown deepens. “Explain yourself, Soldier.”</p><p>“Dimitri.” The name feels strange upon his tongue. “He called me Dimitri.” </p><p>His master flinches and steps backwards. His expression twists into one of rage and he spins around and yells at others in the room, “Get me Cornelia. NOW!” But he says nothing else to the Winter Soldier who remains silent and kneeling, ignoring the ache in his legs. </p><p>He’s not sure how long it has been before a woman joins them, the air around her rippling as she appears. “You cannot simply summon me, Arundel.” </p><p>Thales ignores her protests and grabs her arm, dragging her further away from the Winter Soldier so he can only hear brief snippets of their conversation. After several minutes, Cornelia marches over to him, grabs his chin roughly so he has to look up at her, and asks, “What’s your name?”</p><p>“I have no name,” he responds as his training instructs but in the back of his mind, a soft voice asks <em> are you sure?  </em></p><p>“Do you know who Dimitri Blaiddyd is?” Cornelia asks, grip tightening. </p><p><em> Dimitri </em>. The name echoes inside his mind like a bell ringing in the distance. “Should I?” He feels as if he should because when he blinks, he can see that dark haired man staring up at him, features twisted by shock and recognition. </p><p>“No, forget you ever heard it,” his master says, batting Cornelia’s hand aside. He then grabs her arm and drags her away, lowering his voice again so not to be overheard.</p><p>The Winter Soldier always obeys but this time, he is not sure he will be able to.</p><p>~</p><p>They’re a bedraggled group that returns to the resistance. Mercedes is there to meet them and instantly whisks Ingrid away to do a better job of healing her than their makeshift bandages could ever manage. Not for the first time, Felix wonders if maybe he should put more effort into Reason and Faith studies. He’s always preferred fighting with something more tangible but there’s clearly a benefit in knowing how to heal. It’s not like his family doesn’t have a talent for magic so in theory he should be able to learn.</p><p>Speaking of which… </p><p>Rodrigue doesn’t announce himself as he walks into the room but neither does he try to conceal his presence. Felix doesn’t turn away from the window alcove he’s perched in, one knee pulled up to his chest. He knows why his father is here and he’s in no hurry for the lecture. At least he had enough time to clean up and change out of his armor before he found him.</p><p>After a few awkward minutes, Rodrigue clears his throat and says, “I spoke to Mercedes. She says Ingrid will make a full recovery within a few days at most.”</p><p>“Good,” Felix says, still staring at the window into the rain. It had just started to drizzle when they’d returned and waited about twenty minutes before turning into this storm. At least there’s something to be glad about. </p><p>“Felix…”</p><p>He hates these conversations on the best of days but he particularly doesn’t want to deal with one when he can’t close his damn eyes without seeing Dimiti’s--the Winter Soldier’s--<em>Dimitri’s </em> face. “Just get the lecture over with, old man. I have better things to do.” </p><p>“I have no wish to lecture you,” Rodrigue says, taking several steps closer. “I just wish you hadn’t felt the need to go by yourself.” </p><p>“Ingrid and Sylvain went with me.” </p><p>“Yes, I am aware.”</p><p>Abruptly, Felix gets to his feet, finally looking at his father although not making eye contact. “There’s something you should know. Ingrid, Sylvain, and the rest too. And I’m only going to say it once.” </p><p>Rodrigue nods, expression otherwise difficult to read. “Let’s at least give Ingrid enough time to change and perhaps eat something.” </p><p>“Fine,” Felix says and then walks out of the room before this can turn into a conversation. </p><p>It’s only another half hour before they’re all gathered together and everyone’s staring at him because obviously this isn’t going to be bad enough as it is. He doesn’t waste time and rips the bandage off all at once. “The Winter Soldier. I saw his face.” </p><p>Ingrid frowns. She’s seated but only because Mercedes politely insisted and there is no one in Fódlan who can tell her no when she’s being her bossy healer self. “Do you mean without the mask?”</p><p>Felix nods and then looks vaguely in his father’s direction. “The Winter Soldier is Dimitri.”</p><p>Rodrigue’s only reaction is to blink.</p><p>“That is impossible,” Gilbert says with a reaction much like Felix had expected. “His Highness would never work for the Adrestian Empire.”</p><p>“I know what I saw!” Felix says, eyes narrowing. “Or do you think I wouldn’t recognize someone I’ve known since before we could walk?”</p><p>Gilbert turns towards Sylvain and Ingrid. “You were both there too. Was it him?”</p><p>Sylvain glances down at Ingrid who stares at the floor, hands twisting in her lap. He manages a half smile paired with a shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe. I didn’t get too close when the mask was off. We were busy trying to run for our lives. Ingrid?”</p><p>Her brow furrows. “He had the mask on when he attacked me. But…” She glances towards Felix who stays stony faced. “It could have been. The hair color… his eye.”</p><p>Rodrigue raises his eyebrows. “Eye?”</p><p>“He wore an eyepatch over the other,” Ingrid says. </p><p>“Then Felix is the only one who saw him?” Gilbert asks.</p><p>Sylvain shrugs. “We didn’t exactly have a chance to invite him to sit down for tea.” </p><p>He’s trying to diffuse the situation but Felix doesn’t want to be diffused because he’s tired, he still hurts from being thrown into a tree yesterday, and he’s pissed. “If you’re going to call me a liar then just do it.”</p><p>“No one’s saying that,” Annette breaks in, “but Felix, it’s just hard to… it’s been four years.” </p><p>Of course she’d side with her father on this. He opens his mouth to make a snide remark he doesn’t really mean and will deeply regret later about exactly that when Ingrid kicks him in the shin and he turns to glare at her which gives Rodrigue a chance to say, “Four years is a long time, yes.”</p><p>“But we never saw his body,” Sylvain says, drawing all eyes his way. “Come on, it’s not like everyone here didn’t think Cornelia lied to us about executing him.”</p><p>Gilbert says, “We all wanted to have hope at first but after so long and no rumors…”</p><p>There’s no keeping Felix quiet now. “Fuck rumors. I’m telling you what I saw with my own eyes. It was Dimitri.”</p><p>“Felix,” Mercedes says, her high voice sounding like she’s making even more of an effort to be reassuring than usual. “Would you say that Dimitri didn’t seem like himself?”</p><p>“He was trying to kill us so yeah, I’d say that,” Felix says, unable to rein in his sarcasm.</p><p>She doesn’t take offense to it though and just keeps talking. “And it’s been… hmm… six months or so since we first started hearing about the Winter Soldier?”</p><p>Ingrid answers this time. “Yes.”</p><p>“Annie, do you remember those books we found at school? The ones in the part of the library where we weren’t supposed to go?”</p><p>Annette’s eyes go wide. “Mercie!”</p><p>“Oh don’t be silly! We graduated ages ago. We can’t get in trouble,” Mercedes says. “But do you remember them?”</p><p>Brow furrowed in thought, Annette takes a moment before nodding. “Yes, they theorized about the effects of combining dark magic with healing magic but it was just all just a theory. They said they never really tried it because of the ethical implications.” </p><p>“What if someone else figured it out?” </p><p>There is a distinct difference in the reactions of the magic users and those who don’t. Rodrigue frowns. “That’s dangerous magic, Mercedes. Bordering on impossible.”</p><p>She nods. “I agree but we have seen many impossible things over the years and wouldn’t it explain why Dimitri’s fighting against the Kingdom?”</p><p>“If that was even Dimitri,” Gilbert says. Felix’s mouth is half open to snarl another defense when he holds up his hand and cuts him off. “But Mercedes is right. We’ve seen more than a few impossibilities including those who can take on other’s faces.” </p><p>For the first time, Felix suddenly starts to doubt himself. He’d felt so certain that the Winter Soldier was Dimitri once he’d gotten over the initial shock but now… Vaguely, he’s aware that Ingrid’s asking about the magical theory Mercedes had mentioned but he doesn’t even really hear the words. What if he is wrong and it’s just some… creature wearing Dimitri’s face? And not like when he used to call him beast or boar prince. They never found out what happened to the bodies of Monica or Tomas which would mean… </p><p>“Felix? Are you okay?”</p><p>He’s jolted out of his thoughts by Annette’s concerned voice to see everyone staring at him. It’s stifling. “I need some air,” he mutters before all but running out of the room. He doesn’t stop until the cold spring air hits him like a slap to the face and he realizes he’s outside. In the rain. </p><p>Whatever. It still beats being in there and there isn’t any thunder or lightning anymore.</p><p>Closing his eyes, he tries to think back to the fight. Is there anything he missed? Had the Winter Soldier ever shown any sign that he’d recognized him even after Sylvain had yelled his name? Is he sure it’s Dimitri? The last question is the only one he feels sure of because even with the longer hair and the eyepatch, Felix knows him. They’d have to do a lot more for him to not recognize him. But were they right? Was it just his face? </p><p>“Not sure you noticed but it’s raining.” </p><p>Felix turns to see Sylvain lingering under the last bit of overhang, staying mostly dry. “No shit.”</p><p>Sylvain has that deceptively easy smile on his face that fools most people. “So are you going for the drowned rat look then? Because if someone told you that’s attractive to the ladies, they lied to you.” Felix makes a rude gesture which only makes Sylvain laugh before coming to join him. “Do you want to talk about it?” </p><p>He really doesn’t. “They all think I’m lying.”</p><p>“No one thinks you’re lying, Felix.”</p><p>“They just--”</p><p>“Yeah and you would’ve interrogated yourself too if someone else had come in and said they saw Dimitri after four years.”</p><p>Frowning, Felix says, “You know that sentence didn’t make sense, right?” </p><p>Sylvain shrugs. “But did you know what I meant?” </p><p>Felix doesn’t deign that with more of an answer than the faintest of nods. They stand there in silence, still getting rained on before finally Felix asks, “Do you?”</p><p>“Do I what?”</p><p>“Believe me.”</p><p>There’s silence again and enough of it to make Felix think he knows the answer and his shoulders tense as he waits for even Sylvain to say he doesn’t believe him. But instead, when Sylvain speaks, he says, “I think that if there’s anyone in the world who would know Dimitri no matter what, it’s you.” </p><p>Felix’s head jerks up and around to look up at him. “What?”</p><p>Sylvain says, “If you say the Winter Soldier is Dimitri, then he’s probably Dimitri. And now that I’m thinking about it, there was something familiar about the way he fought. It just looked different with a sword. So what’s the plan?” </p><p>He blinks, still thrown by how quickly things turned around. “Don’t you remember how my last plan turned out?”</p><p>“Guess it’s a good thing Ingrid’s coming with us then.” He raises his voice. “Right, Ingrid?”</p><p>Felix is getting tired of whirling around but he does it anyways. Ingrid’s standing by the door where Sylvain had been, arms folded across her chest as she looks up at the still pouring rain and wrinkles her nose. “You do realize it’s raining, right?” </p><p>“Why does everyone think I’m incapable of knowing what the weather is today?” Felix demands. </p><p>“Because most people wouldn’t stand out here in a downpour,” Ingrid says in that matter-of-fact tone she’s had perfected since they were nine. “Come inside and change into something dry. And then we can figure out how we’re going to find His Highness and bring him home.” </p><p>Felix looks back and forth between them. “Don’t do this out of pity.” </p><p>“Felix,” Sylvain says, slinging an arm around his shoulders and none-so-gently pulling him towards the door, “just shut up and let us help, okay?”</p><p>“Fine,” he mutters, letting himself be pulled. It’s hard to put up too much of a fight even for the sake of it because mostly, he’s relieved he won’t have to do this alone.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. in my defense, i have none</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The search for the Winter Soldier isn't going well. Felix and Mercedes take a field trip.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much to everyone's who has read this so far and especially to those of you who have left comments. &lt;3  The plan is to keep updating this on a weekly basis which should *knock on wood* not be a problem as I'm several chapters ahead at this point.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By the end of two months of searching for the Winter Soldier, Felix is more tired than he’s ever been in his entire life.</p><p>They’d only stayed at their previous stronghold in Galatea territory for another two weeks before they’d made the decision to move on. That in itself hadn’t been surprising. Ever since Cornelia had declared the Kingdom to be a Dukedom, he’d gotten used to staying on the move. The problem is that Galatea is far more conveniently located near Garreg Mach than Fraldarius which is where they’re set up now. Not in the Fraldarius manor, obviously. That would be like sending Cornelia an engraved invitation to come kill them all. </p><p>Not that Felix has been in Fraldarius much.</p><p>He, Ingrid, and Sylvain, are currently huddled around a fire about half a day’s ride away from the resistance’s current hideout on their way back from chasing their latest dead end near the Tailtean Plains. </p><p>“It’s like he’s avoiding us,” Ingrid says, shredding her chunk of bread into too small pieces. “But I don’t understand how.” </p><p>Sylvain’s brow furrows as he watches her hands. “Are you going to eat that or just play with it? Because if not...”</p><p>She jerks away from his extending hand. “Don’t even think about it!” she says, shoving half of them into her mouth which made Sylvain snort and Felix roll his eyes. “But it’s strange, isn’t it?” Only years of experience let either of the men understand her around the overly large mouthful of bread.</p><p>“Yeah but why?’ Felix asks. “He beat us all last time. Why hide?”</p><p>“Would you want to go up against three of Faerghus’s best?” Sylvain counters with a wink.</p><p>Both of them ignore him. Ingrid says, “Do you think he recognized us? Not as… us but as…” She searched hopelessly for a word. “Us?”</p><p>Felix says, “You mean not as enemy warriors.”</p><p>“Faerghus’s best!” The words are no sooner out of Sylvain’s mouth before Ingrid punches him in the arm and Felix throws a pebble that bounces off his greaves. “Ow!”</p><p>“You’re wearing armor, you’re fine.” </p><p>Ingrid swallows the last of her bread. “Can we focus please?”</p><p>“On what?” Sylvain asks. “We have no leads and haven’t even run into an Imperial patrol in a week.”</p><p>“He can’t hide forever.” Felix curls his hand into a fist at his side.</p><p>“Maybe if we close our eyes and wish really hard that he finds us…”</p><p>Sighing, Ingrid says, “Sylvain, you know that’s not helping.” </p><p>Linking his hands behind his head, Sylvain asks, “Do either of you have a better idea?” The resounding silence is answer enough. “Yeah, exactly.”</p><p>“So what then?” The irritation that’s been slowly building in Felix throughout the conversation and for the last two months is mixing with how fucking tired he is and turning into something he can’t push down and ignore. “We stop looking? We let <em> her </em> keep using him to murder what’s left of Faerghus? Until he--” He slams his jaw shut mid-word. Sylvain and Ingrid don’t need to know about his nightmares filled with lifeless bodies and pools of blood he can’t do anything about. They have their own to deal with.</p><p>Sylvain drops his hands back down with a <em> whoosh </em> of breath. “No one’s saying that, Felix. None of us want to give up on Dimitri but we just… we can’t keep doing this.” </p><p>Not for the first time, Felix wonders if they really do believe him or if they’ve just been humoring him all this time. There are days where even he doubts that what he saw was real but deep down… He knows it was him. “Fine.” </p><p>“We’re already in Fraldarius territory,” Ingrid says. “We can regroup with the rest and try and figure out a new plan. Maybe there’s something new in the scout reports. And Felix?” She reaches over and places a hand on top of his, staying silent until he reluctantly looks up at her. “We’re not going to give up on His Highness. I swear it.” </p><p>And Felix believes her. </p><p>Still, he can’t help how he feels when a flustered looking Gautier messenger comes running up to Sylvain less than half an hour after they get back to the current resistance camp. </p><p>“My lord,” the messenger gasps out, bending in something only vaguely reminiscent of a bow as he extends a grubby slip of paper. “From the Margrave.” </p><p>Sylvain breaks the seal on the message and quickly scans it before looking up and asking, “How long ago?”</p><p>“I left Gautier territory yesterday evening,” says the messenger. </p><p>Brow furrowing as he does mental math, Sylvain sighs. “Right. No rest for the wicked, I guess. Find the rest of the men here. Tell them we leave in an hour.” </p><p>“Trouble?” Felix asks as the messenger scampers off to deliver his next message. </p><p>He nods. “My father says they’re testing our western border. He wants me to head there with all the men we have here right now to try and help.”</p><p>There’s no need to pause and think about his response. “We’ll go with you.”</p><p>“No, <em> I’ll </em> go with you,” Ingrid says with that look in her green eyes that says this isn’t up for debate. “Felix, you’ll make us both want to strangle you if you come with us because you’ll spend the entire time wanting to go look for the Winter Solider again. And Sylvain--”</p><p>“Hey, you don’t have to convince me!” Sylvain says, hands raised in a gesture of surrender. “I’m not going to turn down the help.” </p><p>Felix bites back a remark about them being fine with turning down <em> his </em> help mostly because he knows Ingrid is right. Doesn’t mean he has to admit it though. Not when he can scowl at them both as they ride off towards Gautier with several dozen men and he’s left behind to continue the search for Dimitri by himself. </p><p>He’s not sure exactly how long he’s been pouring through piles of reports, some neatly written and sealed with wax and others scribbled on something that can only charitably be described as parchment, when someone is brave enough to actually walk into the room and speak to him.</p><p>“Hello, Felix.”</p><p>“Mercedes,” he replies, not looking up from the current piece of paper he’s scrutinizing. “If you’re looking for Sylvain, he’s gone again.”</p><p>“Headed back home, yes I know.” And then, for whatever reason, she doesn’t leave. She sits at the table across from him. “I was looking for you actually.”</p><p>That’s enough to make Felix look up. “Why?”</p><p>“I thought perhaps we could take supper together.”</p><p>“Supper? It’s only--” He glances out the narrow window to see the slowly falling darkness. “Oh.” </p><p>Mercedes rises to her feet and takes his arm, pulling him with her. “Really, I must insist. You haven’t eaten anything since you broke camp this morning, have you?”</p><p>“Don’t mother me,” Felix mutters even as he lets her guide him out of the room. “I’ve been busy.” </p><p>“Still no solid reports of the Winter Soldier then?”</p><p>“No.” It feels like defeat to say it even though it’s the truth. </p><p>Mercedes pats his arm with her free hand in a gesture that should feel condescending but somehow doesn’t. “I have faith that you’ll find him.”</p><p>“You might be the only one,” Felix says. She hums a somewhat affirmative sound before they lapse into silence as they walk which is fine by him. A question in his mind pulls at him and they turn three different corners before he finally has to ask, “Do you think it’s him?”</p><p>“Do you mean that Dimitri is the Winter Soldier?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“I think that we could all use a reason to have hope,” Mercedes says. </p><p>Felix scowls. “That’s not an answer.” </p><p>She’s saved from having to say anything further as they reach the makeshift mess hall and get pulled into the lines to grab food. Instead, she waits until they’ve found a table in the corner and Felix has a mouthful of meat before saying, “Annie and I wouldn’t be spending so much time researching how this magic works if we didn’t believe that the Winter Soldier really is Dimitri.” </p><p>He chews and swallows his current mouthful. “What does it matter how they did it?”</p><p>“If we can work out how, we might be able to work out how to undo it.”</p><p>“Oh.” He blinks, feeling stupid for missing the obvious. “Right.” Thankfully, she doesn’t do anything more than hide her smile behind a hand. Aggressively, he jabs his fork at a carrot. “So have you?”</p><p>Mercedes shakes her head. “Not yet. It might be easier if we had access to some of the books that delved into the theory. It’s been some time since either Annette or I read them and I’m a bit hazy on the specifics.” </p><p>The next words leave Felix’s mouth before he can think through them. “Where are they? I can get them for you.”</p><p>“I’ll have to go with you,” Mercedes says without missing a beat. “They’d be difficult for someone unfamiliar with the School of Sorcery to find.”</p><p>“Fine, just don’t--” He breaks off abruptly as he realizes how quickly she’d replied to his offer and points his fork at her in an accusatory manner.. “You planned this, didn’t you?” </p><p>“Perhaps we can even return before Sylvain and Ingrid do. How do you feel about leaving tomorrow?”</p><p>One day. One day, Felix is going to figure out how he keeps surrounding himself with friends who do…. Whatever this is. And then stop. Maybe. Possibly.</p><p>Probably not.</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>There is absolutely no way they’re not going to get caught. This is how Felix Fraldarius is finally going to get captured by Cornelia and her dukedom soldiers, tortured for everything he knows about the resistance against her, and then publicly executed. A part of him wonders if his old man will tell anyone that he died like a true knight too or if he’ll just say that his younger son died because he went on an idiotic mission. Which… whatever. Not that he’ll care if it happens. Because he’ll be dead and the dead don’t give a shit.</p><p>Both he and Mercedes took care to dress themselves so they look as little like they’re members of the resistance as possible. This had been easier for her to achieve than him. For starters, she isn’t from a prominent family in Faerghus. For another, Mercedes has an air about her that seems to make strangers immediately recognize her inherent kindness so it was easy enough to disguise her as a holy sister. Felix, on the other hand, can’t be anything but what he is. They’ve tried to make him look like a mercenary who’s seen better days but he’s still not sure how well his disguise will hold up if and when they get challenged especially since he’d put his foot down and refused when Mercedes and Annette had started talking about dyeing his hair. </p><p>Still, it’s been enough to get them through the main gates of Fhirdiad which is further than he expected. The next problem facing them is that it’s already edging towards evening and he has a sinking feeling the city isn’t going to be any fonder of strangers at night during war time than any small town or village is. </p><p>“At least try not to look so tense,” Mercedes murmurs just loud enough for him to hear. </p><p>“I’m your hired guard. I’m supposed to look tense,” Felix replies at the same volume, eyes sweeping from side to side as they make their way through the streets. As a child, he’d spent almost as much time in Fhirdiad as he had in Fraldarius but this hadn’t been the part of the city he’d seen. Instead, he and Dimitri and the rest of their friends had mostly been confined to the palace grounds for the prince’s safety. “Are we close yet?”</p><p>At least Mercedes seems to know where she’s going even under the new regime. “Almost but you do remember we’ll have to wait, yes?”</p><p>That’s the part of the plan he hates so much that he can’t help but remember it. It’s easy enough to pretend you just took a wrong turn in the light of day. At night? Not so much. Everyone’s suspicious even in a church. But he gave up arguing the point two days ago because Mercedes is irritatingly firm when she wants to be. Maybe it’s to make up for being so accommodating the rest of the time. He’s about to make a reply when a squad of four soldiers wearing Cornelia’s corrupted coat-of-arms turn a corner and he grabs Mercedes’s arm to spin them both around to face away from them, pretending to make a careful study of the shop window. It’s not subtle.</p><p>“You really aren’t very good at this, are you?” Mercedes says once the soldiers are gone and they’ve resumed their own walk again.</p><p>Bristling, Felix says, “They taught me how to fight someone head on. With a sword. If you wanted someone good at pretending, you should have asked Sylvain.” Immediately, he hears the accidental connotation of his own words and winces. “I didn’t mean it like that.” </p><p>“I know.” Now the silence between them feels awkward instead of comfortable like it has been. Finally, Mercedes says, “Felix, if you’d like to talk about my relationship with Sylvain--”</p><p>“No!” That draws some stares and his cheeks flush pink as they attract a few stares. </p><p>“Really? Because if there any hesitations you might have regarding me being involved with one of your closest friends…”</p><p>“I’d rather fight a demonic beast,” Felix says vehemently. </p><p>She smiles. “As you like.” </p><p>It’s suddenly making far more sense to him why those two people of all the people in the world have found each other: they both like to prod at him to try and make him talk about feelings. Ridiculous. But at the same time, Felix can bring himself to admit that he’s glad they found each other though. Someone has to be happy even during all of this and it might as well be Sylvain and Mercedes. </p><p>There isn’t much to do as they wait for nightfall and the cover it’ll grant them. He’s not mad about the time it gives them to rest and even eat a light meal especially since it’s enough time to also fit in a little more Faith magic practice. As a way to pass time on the road, Mercedes has been teaching him the basics. He can’t do much more than heal small cuts and bruises but it’s more than he could do a few weeks ago. </p><p>“You should come by the infirmary sometime,” Mercedes says. “I think you might be ready to try something a little trickier.”</p><p>“Don’t waste your time flattering me,” Felix mutters, cheeks flushing at the praise anyways. He’s never been much good at learning anything quickly that wasn’t a weapon before. It’s nice to be good at something else for once too. “Have we wasted enough time yet?”</p><p>She nods. “I think so, yes.” </p><p>Despite the alliance with the Adrestian Empire and Edeglard’s disdain for the Church of Seiros, the churches themselves have been left largely untouched in Faerghus. It’s surprising but also convenient for their mission so Felix isn’t about to object. With their hoods up, they look like any other tired travelers wishing to give thanks to the Goddess for a safe journey or whatever people come to churches to do. Even his swords don’t draw much notice because this is Faerghus. (He’s taken to carrying two since his encounter with the Winter Soldier because he’s not going to get caught empty handed again.) </p><p>As they draw closer to the altar, Mercedes sinks to her knees gracefully and folds her hands together. Felix stares down at her, mouth hanging open. “Are you actually <em> praying</em>?”</p><p>Mercedes keeps her eyes closed as she replies, “The least we can do is thank the Goddess for letting us use her Church like this and ask that she grant us her favor.”</p><p>The use of ‘we’ isn’t lost on him so Felix goes down on one knee, trying to ignore how it cracks. <em> Seiros, please don’t let this be how I die</em>, he thinks before rising up again. It technically counts as praying. Mercedes, unsurprisingly, takes a few moments more before she’s done and he offers her a hand. “Which way?” </p><p>She nods to the left and takes the lead, showing him a part of the Church he never knew existed. They make a turn and then another turn and then they head down a crumbling staircase that’s far sturdier than it looks. As soon as they reach the bottom, Felix sucks in his breath. They don’t actually look all that similar but he can’t help but think of the Holy Tomb. Those aren’t the worst memories he has but it’s one of those times where everything went wrong. It’s why they’re… his jaw tightens. He has to stop getting distracted by shit like this. If he can focus and they can find the books Mercedes is looking for, they might actually have a chance of fixing things. He might have a chance to…</p><p>“Most people don’t realize this passageway even exists,” Mercedes whispers even though they’re likely alone down there. “It started out as an escape route but now students mostly just use it to sneak out.” </p><p>“Why would you need to sneak out?” Felix asks. Her only response is a hum that makes him roll his eyes even though she can’t see it. Fine. He can speculate. </p><p>She stops at a seemingly random grave, presses a part of the decorative scroll work, and then steps back as it triggers something and the entire structure moves aside to reveal yet another staircase. </p><p>Wrinkling his nose, Felix asks, “How much further underground can we possibly go?”</p><p>“We won’t go any deeper than this,” Mercedes says. “There’s no reason to be afraid.”</p><p>“I’m not afraid!” Felix says hotly which just makes her eyebrows raise. He huffs. “I’m not.” </p><p>She uses magic to light two of the small torches they brought with them. They cast just enough light so that Felix doesn’t trip over some of the rubble that’s somewhat blocked the path over the years. He’s not sure how many minutes they walk for--two? maybe five?--before Mercedes presses a seemingly random pattern of spots on the wall in front of them and the smooth stone in front of them slides to the side and then they’re inside of the Royal School of Sorcery.</p><p>He expected the school to look like the Academy at Garreg Mach. It doesn’t. No wait, that’s not right. It’s not that it looks different. It <em> feels </em> different. He’s hardly a stranger to how magic feels when it’s cast nearby him but this is… amplified. Almost like it would be tangible if he reached out to touch it.</p><p>Mercedes must have noticed him stumble because she says, “You get used to it.” </p><p>“What is it?” Felix asks through gritted teeth.</p><p>“Magic, of course. There are wards set throughout the building to try and contain it in case anyone has a spell go terribly wrong and there are so many people practicing or researching at any given time that it builds up like this.”</p><p>“This can’t be normal.” </p><p>“It is here. Come on, the library is this way.”</p><p>The corridors are mostly empty. According to Mercedes, at this time of day, most of the students and teachers are at dinner or else too caught up in their studies to remember trivial things like food. She pulls out a scroll and holds it so Felix can see it’s nothing but an inventory of healing herbs and speaks to him quietly like they’re discussing its contents. It’s enough to fool the handful of people they do pass by into thinking they’re talking about some magical theory. Mostly, he’s confused by how no one seems to care about the swords on his back since no one else they pass by seems to be carrying one but then again… this is Faerghus. </p><p>It’s not until Mercedes pushes open the library’s heavy doors that Felix sees more than two mages at a time. The shelves are arranged to create a large circle in the center of the room, filled with tables that are in turn filled with mages bent over their piles of books and scrolls, most with quills in hand. Even from where they are by the door, Felix can tell it’s more than just the one room like back at Garreg Mach. Mercedes whispers in his ear, “There are rooms that shoot off each of the sides. The section we’re looking for is in the one to the left.” </p><p>“Right,” Felix says at his normal volume level, which earns him a glare from one of the scholars, a younger teenage girl with dark hair. He glares right back. </p><p>It turns out that the room to the left side isn’t just one but several; each getting smaller and less populated by mages. They’re through a second door when a voice says, “Mercedes?” As one, Felix and Mercedes turn to face a man who looks closer to her age than his. The stranger’s clothes are somewhat rumpled and his glasses are falling down the bridge of his nose. “I thought that was you.”</p><p>“Hello, William. It’s lovely to see you,” Mercedes says, stepping slightly in front of Felix.</p><p>William shifts his books under one arm. “What are you doing here? I thought you went off to the Officers Academy.”</p><p>She nods. “I did. I’m just here for a--”</p><p>He tilts to the left, frowning as he gets a better look at Felix. “Say. You look familiar. Kind of like that Duke--”</p><p>In a flash, Felix darts out from behind Mercedes to shove William against the nearest shelf and presses the sharp edge of his boot knife against his throat. </p><p>“Felix!” Mercedes says, voice sounding even higher than usual even in a whisper. “That won’t be necessary. Will it, William?”</p><p>The older man’s eyes are already round and he looks as if he’s not sure if speaking or shaking his head is less dangerous which is his problem, not Felix’s. He goes with squeaking, “Not necessary!” </p><p>Felix doesn’t believe him. “Do you trust him?” Mercedes’s hesitation is answer enough and so he pulls his knife just far enough away so he can flip it and then sharply raps the other man on the head, sending him crumpling to the ground unconscious. </p><p>“I could have used magic for that,” Mercedes says in a somewhat reapproaching tone. </p><p>“This was faster,” Felix says, bending to drag William into the stacks and propping him up against one of the shelves. He rips off the man’s belt and uses it as makeshift bonds but hopefully they’ll be long gone once he’s conscious again. And then he’s on his feet again. “Can we hurry this up any?”</p><p>She nods. “Yes, but let’s try and not knock anyone else unconscious. Just put your hood up again please.”</p><p>He tugs it back up and returns his boot knife to its hidden sheath, making sure it’s loose enough that he can quickly grab it again if necessary. He doesn’t particularly want to be the sort of person who’s ready to slit someone’s throat at a moment’s notice but if that’s what it takes to get them both home safely… </p><p>The door they’re looking for is only a few aisles over but it’s sealed with no visible handle or knob. Mercedes closes her eyes as she lays her palm flat against a rune. There’s a moment before her hand glows first blue and then white and there’s a click as the metal gate slides open. She glances over her shoulder, smiling. “We’re lucky they haven’t changed it in a decade. Otherwise, we’d need the head librarian to let us in.”</p><p>“You’re more devious than your whole pious act makes people think,” Felix says as he follows her into the restricted room. </p><p>“Oh, it’s not an act, Felix,” Mercedes says, pace picking up now that they’re so close to their destination. “People can just be more than one thing at a time” </p><p>No. He’s not doing any stupid soul searching shit or whatever she’s hinting at. “Let’s just get your stupid books and go.” </p><p>She kneels down and starts to pull out large tomes from the bottom shelf, handing them up to him until he’s got an armful and is starting to wonder how many more they’ll be able to take carry before it looks like they’re committing a robbery. Which. Well. They are. He has five thick books in his arms by the time Mercedes gracefully rises to her feet, a sixth in hand. “This should be all of them.”</p><p>“Are you sure?” he asks. “We’re not coming back.” </p><p>“I’m as sure as I can be given the subject matter.” </p><p>They each take three, tucking them into large satchels they’d brought for this very purpose. Mentally, Felix tries to account for how they’ll throw off his balance if they need to fight their way out. </p><p>And the fight comes… just later than expected. </p><p>At the time, Felix had thought their plan to leave their horses at an inn in a village just outside the city was a smart one. Getting in and out of Fhirdiad is supposed to be the hard part and he’d paid a stableboy well to keep an eye on their mounts.</p><p>What he <em> hadn’t </em> counted on was a squad of Cornelia’s soldiers being in the stables as he and Mercedes returned to reclaim their horses. And there’s no time to pull his hood back up. All he can do is spin them both around and try to leave before they’re notic--</p><p>“Stop!” one of the soldiers says in the authoritative tone that probably terrifies Faerghan villagers into submission. </p><p>“We don’t mean to cause trouble, sir. We just wanted to check on our horses,” Mercedes says demurely, eyes on the ground.</p><p>For a moment, Felix thinks it works but then the soldier says, “Both of you turn around. Real slow like.”</p><p>The one closest to him doesn’t wait to see if he’ll comply; instead reaching for his sleeve and trying to spin him. Felix doesn’t let him but he sees enough to start to shout a warning. “Sir, that’s--” A sack’s worth of books meets his head, violently, knocking him to the ground.</p><p>“Not the books please!” Mercedes says, stepping backwards and calling forth a spell.</p><p>“They’re <em> books</em>,” Felix half snarls as he draws his sword and lunges towards the next nearest soldier. </p><p>Six versus two isn’t a fair fight against a swordsman like him and a mage like her. </p><p>“Get out of here,” Felix tells the stableboy cowering in the corner as he bends to make sure the soldier at his feet is really dead. “You don’t want to be here when someone comes looking for them.” The boy doesn’t reply and just bolts out of the stable without another word. Typical. </p><p>It’s only the work of a few minutes for them to saddle their horses and secure the books in the saddle bags. Felix keeps half an eye on the bodies around them. Someone coming back from the supposed dead wouldn’t be the oddest thing that’s happened. But none of them so much as twitch and so he swings up into the saddle, shifting until he’s comfortable. He turns to Mercedes who’s already mounted. “We’ll need to ride through the night.”</p><p>“Don’t worry about me, Felix,” Mercedes says. “We do what we have to.”</p><p>Yeah. There’s a lot of that going around.</p><p>Felix digs his heels into his horse’s sides and they take off at a gallop into the night.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. and some things you just can't speak about</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A reunion or two. Of sorts.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was another four weeks before Sylvain and Ingrid returned from Gautier with significantly less soldiers than they’d left with and looking significantly more tired than they had been when they’d left which is saying something.</p><p>“Did we miss anything?” Sylvain asks once they’ve both had a chance to wash up. They (being Sylvain, Felix, Ingrid, Mercedes, and Annette) are seated around a table for a somewhat early dinner. Felix had stopped bothering going through the motions of objecting every time either Mercedes or Annette invited him to join them because inevitably, he ended up at the table with them anyways. In truth, he doesn’t mind. He’s fond of Annette and her songs and the week it took them to get to Fhirdiad and back had helped him become truly comfortable around Mercedes even when she wasn’t teaching him more about magic. </p><p>Still, Felix is surprised that she says, “Felix and I went to Fhirdiad,” at the same time as he says, “Nothing.”</p><p>Sylvain frowns and looks between them. “Fhirdiad?”</p><p>Mercedes nods. “My research into the magic that might have been used to warp Dimitri’s mind had reached a stumbling point. I needed certain books from the School of Sorcery’s library to make any more progress.”</p><p>“You couldn’t have found them somewhere else?” Ingrid asks around a mouthful of vegetables. </p><p>Shaking her head, she says, “No, they’re very rare texts. Even the school keeps them locked away.”</p><p>“We had to sneak into the restricted section to even see them when we were students there,” Annette says. </p><p>Both of Sylvain’s eyebrows shoot up. “That doesn’t sound like nothing, Felix.” </p><p>He shrugs and stares very intently at his plate like he might not be able to put a mouthful of meat on to his fork if he doesn’t give his utmost attention. The next bite of dinner is equally important. And the next one too. </p><p>“There’s nothing to be concerned about,” Mercedes says, laying a hand on Sylvain’s arm. “The trouble we ran into was hardly any trouble at all.”</p><p>“What about you two and everything back in Gautier?” Felix asks, hoping to force a subject change.</p><p>It works and Sylvain’s expression darkens. Mercedes slips her hand down into his and he squeezes it but doesn’t let go afterwards. “We dealt with it,” Sylvain says slowly, clearly taking his time with choosing his words. “But if Sreng decides to start testing our borders again at the same time as Cornelia, I’m not sure how long Gautier can hold.”</p><p>He doesn’t have to say that if Gautier falls that Fraldarius is next and if Fraldarius falls, the resistance will have nowhere left to hide. Cornelia will win.<em> Edelgard </em> will win. And everyone sitting at the table knows it. </p><p>“We’ll find a way,” Annette says, the intense furrow of her brow almost at odds with how optimistic her voice is. “We always do.”</p><p>Felix can’t bring himself to look at her and stomp on that hope and, from the way Ingrid’s staring at her plate across the table, neither can she. </p><p>“Of course we will,” Mercedes says with such surety that part of Felix wants to believe her. The silence that settles over them like a blanket says that the rest of them want to too.</p><p>It’s Ingrid who finally breaks it by clearing her throat. “Do we have any new leads on the Winter Soldier?”</p><p>Felix shakes his head. “Nothing.” He knows that’s not his fault but that doesn’t stop him from feeling like it is. Glancing up, he makes eye contact with Sylvain and is immediately hit with an overwhelming sense of being understood because there is nothing either of them can do to solve the particular problems that can plague them. All they can keep doing is going and dancing dangerously close with the definition of insanity and cling to hope that maybe one day, they’ll find a way forward. </p><p>Forward. Always forward.</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>In a lot of ways, Felix knows he’s changed since his time at the Academy. But in others… he’s fairly sure he’ll have to be dead before he stops spending most of his free time training. He’s working with Aegis today and finding an odd sort of comfort in its weight on his arm. The sword in his hand is a dull one meant for training while his real blades are leaning against the courtyard wall. </p><p>He’s surrounded by three Fraldarius soldiers, two of whom are in the dirt already, nursing injuries that will likely turn into bruises. Wounding them hadn’t been his intention but they’re minor injuries. No one’s bleeding. They’ll be fine. And so will this last soldier who faces him with his sword over his arm, cautiously closing the ground between them. He’s too cautious though and Felix uses that to his advantage by striking quickly with his sword and using his shield to knock him to the ground. It’s satisfying. Maybe a little too satisfying. </p><p>“We yield,” the soldier says between coughs. “Well fought, my lord.”</p><p>“I’m no one’s lord,” Felix says, turning away. </p><p>His father is the last person he expects to see when he does. Rodrigue leans against one of the pillars, clearly having been there awhile although he’s not sure how long. “You seem to have improved every time I see you fight.” Felix shrugs off the compliment and steps away from the soldiers who slowly pick themselves back up off the ground and step away from the Fraldarius men. In contrast, his father moves closer. “I wish I could have seen you and Gl--”</p><p>“Don’t say his name,” Felix snarls, squeezing the hilt of his sword hard enough to hurt.</p><p>There’s a flicker of something Felix refuses to give a name to in Rodrigue’s eyes before he nods and says, “Very well. Would you spar with me then?”</p><p>Felix blinks. “What?”</p><p>He selects a training lance from the rack and hefts it to check the balance. “I know it has been awhile since we have sparred together--”</p><p>“Yes. <em> Years</em>.”</p><p>“--but I’d like to--”</p><p>Felix keeps stomping over whatever his father is trying to say because he doesn’t know what else to do. “When was the last time you even fought on foot?” </p><p>“Does it matter?” </p><p>“Fine,” Felix says because what else can he say? He raises his shield back up and stands at the ready. “Just don’t expect me to go easy on you, old man.” </p><p>The corners of Rodrigue’s mouth twitch upwards as he shifts his grip on his lance. “I am not completely useless without a horse or my magic.”</p><p>That remains to be seen. He knows his father is a formidable opponent on the battlefield but with nothing but a lance in the training yard? Maybe not.</p><p>Felix has no intention of losing and so he doesn’t bother with waiting politely and instead strikes first. Rodrigue dodges it with a twist of his body and an approving nod. The nod just makes him want to win even more. He doesn’t need his old man’s approval. He hasn’t wanted it for years. Not since… </p><p>He makes three strikes in rapid succession, barely giving Rodrigue time to register they’ve been made before making the follow up one. Two land but they’re more taps than anything. Felix smirks as Rodrigue acknowledges the hits and asks,  “Are you warmed up yet?”</p><p>“They were fair hits,” his father says, shaking out his left wrist which had taken the brunt of one of the blows. As soon as his hand is on the wood again, Rodrigue lunges forward with his lance fast enough that Felix only just barely brings Aegis up in time to deflect the hit. Good. This won’t be entirely boring.</p><p>They fall into a rhythm. Despite Rodrigue using a lance, Felix’s relative youth and time spent in the training yard give him an advantage. It doesn’t make the match easy though.</p><p>“You seem more at ease fighting against a lance than most swordsmen,” Rodrigue observes as casually as someone can while fighting even for practice.</p><p>Felix shrugs. “All of my friends fight with them.” </p><p>“Did you ever consider mastering it too?”</p><p>“No.” Neither of them have to say why. It’s easier if Felix just pretends he focused purely on the swords because he wanted to and not because he wanted to avoid yet another way for people to compare him to Glenn. </p><p>Only the sounds of weapons clashing fills the makeshift training grounds for so long that Felix thinks perhaps his father is done trying to talk to him. This is about how long their conversations usually end up lasting so it wouldn’t be all that much of a surprise. </p><p>Rodrigue asks, “The Winter Soldier. Did you say he fought with a lance or with a sword?”</p><p>The abrupt changes in topic almost makes Felix stumble but he catches himself. “A sword. Why?” </p><p>“That wasn’t His Highness’s preferred weapon. I wonder if that choice was deliberate.” </p><p>That isn’t news to Felix but the underlying message is. “So. You believe me then.”</p><p>Rodrigue takes a moment to consider his response and to dodge Felix’s next hit. “Yes, although I wish there was no need to.” </p><p>It’s been such a long time since he’s felt like he actually agreed with his old man on anything that he slips up enough to let Rodrigue score a hit. Embarrassed, Felix explodes with a series of blows, hoping his flushed cheeks can be blamed on exertion. He uses Aegis to knock the lance aside and lunges forward so the tip of his sword is at his father’s throat. </p><p>Slowly, Rodrigue lowers his weapon and says, “I yield. Well fought, son.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Felix says gruffly, stepping away as fast as he can manage. He turns away and grabs a water skin from the ground, taking a long drink from it before tossing it to Rodrigue. The silence between them is oddly comfortable; more comfortable than it’s felt in a long time. Felix returns his training sword to the rack and then unties the leather cord holding back his hair and pulls it back into a horse tail again more for something to do than anything else. </p><p>Rodrigue has returned his training weapon to the rack as well and folded his arms across his chest. Even though Felix isn’t looking at him directly, he can feel his father’s eyes on him and he shifts under the weight. “Felix…” Rodrigue starts to say but he doesn’t get far enough into whatever he’s planning to say to make Felix stomp off before a flurry of activity grabs both of their attention.</p><p>A solider bolts up to them and skitters to a stop only a few feet away, half bowing and half pressing his hands against his knees as he tries to catch his breath. “Your Grace!”</p><p>“What’s happened?’ Rodrigue asks even as Felix starts to get a sinking suspicion that they’re being--</p><p>“We’re under attack, Your Grace!” the soldier says in a jumble, straightening up. “An army approaches from the west!” </p><p>“How many?’ Felix asks.</p><p>The soldier shakes his head. “Too many. And they have…” He gulps. “I think the Winter Soldier is with them, milord.” </p><p>There’s no conscious decision that passes through his head before Felix pivots and starts to run in the direction of the western side of their base. He pauses only to grab his swords and then again which Rodrigue says, “Felix, wait,” in a tone he cannot ignore. </p><p>“He is <em> here</em>,” Felix says, jabbing his hand towards the west and looking stupid as he does it because it’s the hand his swords are in. “We’ve been looking for him for <em> months </em> and now he’s here. Don’t try and--”</p><p>“Felix.” This time, it’s enough to make Felix’s jaw snap shut even though he glares at his old man. “We need to evacuate what people we have here.” </p><p>Gritting his teeth, Felix just stares at Rodrigue as he tries to find the words to object but none come so finally he says, “To where?” </p><p>“South,” Rodrigue says, which answers more than someone else might think it would. They’ve planned for this. Nodding, Felix moves to buckle his sword belts around his waist but his father shakes his head. “Find Ingrid and Sylvain. And armor.” </p><p>Given that he’s wearing only a shirt and his trousers to train and not even his usual gambeson, he can’t even object and so instead, Felix nods jerkily and then takes off as a run towards his shared quarters. By the time he gets there, Sylvain’s already there haphazardly pulling on his armor with three stuffed saddlebags at his feet. “Where’s Ingrid?” Felix asks.</p><p>“Stables, helping saddle all the mounts,” Sylvain replies in a voice completely devoid of any humor. He turns towards him and moves his arm up out of the way and Felix immediately tightens the nearest strap, sliding the buckles into place. “Where were you?”</p><p>“Training yard with my old man,” Felix says, starting to yank his own light armor into place. Any other day, he wouldn’t bother with it but if the Winter Soldier is here, it’s worth the extra few minutes. He knows how hard Dimitri can hit no matter what name they’re calling him. Nodding towards the saddlebags, he asks, “Is that…”</p><p>Sylvain nods. “Yeah, I packed for all three of us.” </p><p>“Thanks,” Felix says. They haven’t had to evacuate quite so fast before and he’s glad Ingrid and Sylvain already seemed to have done the divide and conquer thing so he doesn’t have to worry about wasting even more time packing than he already is on armoring up. Between the two of them helping each other and moving far faster than they usually would, it only takes a few minutes before they’re both dressed. Felix slings two of the saddlebags over one shoulder and draws his sword as Sylvain takes the third and both his relic and Ingrid’s. </p><p>People are running everywhere as they make their way down to the stables. Apparently the news spread fast. Or whatever force the Winter Soldier was leading was just that large. Great. As they reach the stables, Ingrid is saddling an unfamiliar horse although to be fair, Felix doesn’t really make it a point to pay them any more attention than absolutely necessary. She acknowledges them with a nod but doesn’t look up from her tasks. “Which way are we going?”</p><p>“The old man says south,” Felix says, letting Sylvain take the two saddlebags and start to secure them to horses. “Have you seen him or Gilbert?”</p><p>“They’re organizing the defense.”</p><p>“Then who’s organizing the evacuation?” Sylvain asks. </p><p>Ingrid and Felix say, “You,” at the exact same time. </p><p>Sylvain blinks. “What?” </p><p>“You’re good at these sorts of things,” Ingrid says. “And someone needs to lead what’s left of us.” </p><p>“That’s what His Grace is for!”</p><p>Felix glances over his shoulder. “We don’t have time to argue about this. Just do what she says.”</p><p>Sylvain sighs and leans on the Lance of Ruin. “Well now I just want not to on principle.” Both of them round on him and he quickly holds up his free hand in surrender. “Okay, okay, fine! I’ll do it. Buy us as much time as you can.”</p><p>“Thank you.” Ingrid nods and grabs Lúin from where Sylvain had leaned it up against the wall as she heads towards where her pegasus waits already saddled. She’ll make her own way towards the front and so Felix nods at Sylvain and turns to head there. </p><p>He’s still close enough to hear when Sylvain softly says, “Hey Ingrid… if it’s really the Winter Soldier…  watch his back, will you?”</p><p>“I always do,” she replies.</p><p>It doesn’t take a genius for Felix to figure out who they’re talking about. Idiots. Stupid overprotective idiots. But all he has time to do right now is roll his eyes at them. </p><p>By the time he makes it to Rodrigue and Gilbert, he’s already had to use his sword. Gilbert spots him first. “Felix!” It’s punctuated by the sound of a soldier hitting his shield and bouncing off of it. “Where are Ingrid and Sylvain?”</p><p>Felix opens his mouth to respond but defending himself comes first. “Sylvain’s helping with the evacuation.” He spins and raises Aegis just in time to block a strike at his head. “And Ingrid is--” He feels more than sees a pegasus fly over head. “--here.”</p><p>At some point, his father found the time to get his own mount and a proper lance. Rodrigue looks down at Gilbert. “You should go as well.”</p><p>Part of their conversation seems to go unspoken but Gilbert asks, “You are sure?”</p><p>“For Faerghus,” Rodrigue says before glancing towards Felix. “Besides, this is Fraldarius land. Fraldarius men will cover the retreat.”</p><p>Felix somehow manages to roll his eyes while also blocking a wild swing from a Dukedom soldier and following up with a quick jab that sends him to the ground bleeding profusely. Everyone always has to be so fucking noble. He has bigger concerns than chivalry. “The Winter Soldier. Where is he?” </p><p>His question gets its answer in the form of one of the foot soldiers flying through the air, colliding with one of the Galatea pegasus knights and sending them both crashing into the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, Felix can see Gilbert frown. “Felix, please don’t do anything--”</p><p>“Believe me now?” Felix asks before leaving both old men behind. He has a mission. This is what he’s been waiting for even if Mercedes and Annette haven’t worked out whatever magic they think is responsible for doing this. It’s been three months and he is beyond ready to face the monster they’ve turned Dimitri into again.</p><p>Or at least he thinks he’s ready. </p><p>As he draws close enough to make out facial features, he sucks his breath in as he sees that the Winter Soldier wears no eyepatch today. Instead, there’s some sort of red stone in his eye socket; the color standing in stark contrast to how brilliant blue his remaining eye is. Had that been there the last time? Either way, there’s no denying he looks like Dimitri. Even his old man and Gilbert won’t be able to say otherwise now. Especially not once Rodrigue sees him fight. </p><p>That’ll be a bonus for if he gets out of this alive. He’ll also take getting less bruises on his ass this time. </p><p>Felix has to fight his way across the battlefield. For once, he doesn’t mind that it’s somewhat slow going. They’re supposed to be buying time for Sylvain and the rest anyways. The Winter Soldier fights like how he remembers: brutal yet somewhat familiar. None who face him can stand their ground for more than a handful of blows before being either knocked aside or to the ground. He knows what he has to do.</p><p>“DIMITRI!” Felix bellows.</p><p>To his surprise, the Winter Soldier stops and looks over his shoulder and there’s a spark of recognition in his eye. “You,” he says, turning the rest of the way and giving the soldier he had been about to kill the chance to scurry backwards at a rapid crawl. The Winter Soldier stalks towards him, holding a lance in one armored hand even though there’s a greatsword strapped to his back. It looks as if he’s taken it from a fallen Kingdom soldier. “You keep calling me that. Why?”</p><p>Felix grits his teeth and raises his sword. “Because it’s your name.”</p><p>“My designation is the Winter Soldier.” </p><p>“That’s bullshit,” Felix says, darting forward with a strike as soon as he’s in range. He twists out of the way and yeah, if Felix hadn’t been sure that he’s Dimitri before, he sure as hell would be now. They can do whatever they want to his mind but they can’t take away his muscle memory. Felix lost track of how many times they’ve executed that exact set of maneuvers while training together as teenagers. <em> One day, I’ll be fast enough that it’ll work</em>, Felix had told him with a glare. Dimitri had merely smiled and spun his lance with an extra flourish before settling into a defensive stance again. </p><p>They settle into a rhythm and it’s like the rest of the battlefield around them doesn’t even exist. This time, Felix is ready for how hard the Winter Soldier hits and he’s ready for seeing Dimitri’s face staring down at him with nothing even faintly resembling an emotion. Dimitri had always been far better than him at keeping his emotions in check in the heat of battle but this feels different. Unnerving. Wrong. </p><p>Felix ducks beneath a too high strike from the lance. “Who did this to you?” That garners only silence so he tries again. “Who gives you your orders?”</p><p>He almost stumbles when the Winter Soldier replies, “My masters in the Adrestian Empire.”</p><p>“You mean Edelgard?” His brow furrows in confusion and Felix’s does too. If not Edelgard... “Then who?”</p><p>The Winter Soldier makes no verbal response. For now, Felix files the information away to discuss with Sylvain and Ingrid later. It might mean nothing. It might not. </p><p>He’s not sure how long they’ve been tangling like this before Felix comes to a startling realization: he’s fighting all wrong. He’s not giving it his all like he had against the Dukedom soldiers who surround them because he’s not trying to kill the Winter Soldier. He’s just trying to disable him so he can be captured. And it’s getting him nowhere. </p><p>Before he can do anything about it, he hears his father say from far too close, “Goddess preserve us. Felix, you were right.”</p><p>Felix whirls around to face him. “This isn’t your fight, old man!” He just barely raises Aegis in time to save his neck from being skewered. “You’re going to get us both killed.”</p><p>Rodrigue ignores him because of course he fucking does. “Your Highness, none of us wish to fight you.”</p><p>The Winter Soldier looks between them. “He calls me Dimitri. You greet me with a title. Neither of those are my designation.”</p><p>“They were. They <em> are</em>,” Felix says through gritted teeth. “If you would just fucking listen to me!” The Winter Soldier attacks again. Fine. No talking then.</p><p>Dimitri is fighting both Fraldarius men now although Rodrigue uses magic instead of a physical weapon; something that seems to make him hesitate. Felix takes advantage and speeds up his attacks, sword almost moving fast enough to be a blur. Spinning away, the Winter Soldier hits Rodrigue in the stomach with the butt of his lance, knocking him backwards to the ground. Felix darts in before the Winter Soldier can follow up, drawing his attention back. This time, the onslaught is relentless. He leaves Felix with no chance to attack and instead forces him to keep raising Aegis to block the blows that come down like heavy rain. </p><p>A spell strikes the ground between their feet and Felix leaps backwards. The Winter Soldier lunges to follow only to collide with the spell as it manifests into a wall of energy. Both of their gazes are drawn towards Rodrigue who holds both hands aloft, keeping the spell strong and buying Felix the precious seconds he needs.</p><p>Two things happen at once: First, Felix regains his footing and opens his mouth to shout for his father to release the spell. Second, the Winter Soldier hurls his lance with deadly precision directly at the duke’s chest.</p><p>It finds its target. </p><p>Someone is shouting. It takes another few seconds before Felix realizes it is him. </p><p>The Winter Soldier turns back towards him and reaches for his greatsword but Felix doesn’t give him the chance and bashes him in the face with Aegis. He stumbles backwards and Felix just keeps hitting him, sword forgotten. This is too satisfying. He needs this right now. He just wishes it was whoever did this to Dimitri instead. “He loves you,” Felix says through clenched teeth and between blows, “more than his own damn blood. More than his own fucking life.”</p><p>“I do not know him,” the Winter Soldier says. “I do not know you.”</p><p>Felix isn’t thinking anymore. There is no technique or finesse to his hits. He has nothing left but anger and anger makes him sloppy. Sloppy enough that he never sees the kick coming that knocks him backwards. But he does see the Winter Soldier finally draw his sword and advance. Great, Felix thinks as he tries to get his feet under himself to stand, this is how he dies too. At least his old man won’t be able to tell anyone that he died like a true knight too and Sylvain probably knows it’ll piss him off too much to even do it as one last jest between friends. </p><p>A burst of wind from pegasus wings almost knocks him right back to the ground before he can even stand as the white beast lands between him and the Winter Soldier. Ingrid wields her Hero’s Relic with precision that likely would have proven deadly against any other opponent but it merely knocks the Winter Soldier backwards. She extends a hand towards Felix. “Get on.”</p><p>For once, he doesn’t argue with her and takes it, sheathing his sword and vaulting onto the pegasus behind her in two smooth motions. He keeps Aegis on his arm for now, just in case. “My father--”</p><p>“My knights have him,” Ingrid says as the pegasus takes off into the sky again, leaving the Winter Soldier behind.</p><p>Felix doesn’t remember any of the time they spend in the air. He barely even remembers sliding back off the pegasus once it lands and stumbling towards the pegasi who’d flown alongside them. </p><p>“Mercedes!” he vaguely hears Ingrid yell. “We need you!”</p><p>He is no stranger to blood or battleground injuries but he can’t help sucking in his breath as he kneels beside Rodrigue. Felix says, “That fight. I had it under control.” </p><p>“I did what I thought was right and what was necessary,” Rodrigue says, voice weak. He coughs into one hand and it comes away with bright red blood spots. “You cannot ask me to do as you would not, my son.” </p><p>Felix glares. “Do you see me dying for anyone, old man?”</p><p>He manages a smile. “No, of cours--” The rest of his sentence is cut off by another racking cough. Mercedes appears and kneels on the other side of his body. She holds a hand over the lance wound and it starts to glow. A moment after that she frowns. Rodrigue shakes his head. “Don’t waste your magic on me, Mercedes.” She hesitates for a moment before nodding, dropping her hands back to her sides. “Felix…” Rodrigue says, reaching up one hand to touch his cheek. “Felix, look at me please.”</p><p>He’s had his differences with his father but he can’t refuse that request and so he forces his amber eyes to meet his father’s dark ones. “What?”</p><p>“Don’t give up on him,” Rodrigue says. </p><p>There is no question of who the “him” in this case is. His mouth is suddenly drier than a desert so Felix licks his lips and starts to say, “Father, I…” before words fail him completely.</p><p>But he doesn’t seem to need to say them because Rodrigue manages one last small smile before his eyes drift close. </p><p>And then Felix Hugo Fraldarius is the last Fraldarius left in this fucking world.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. there is no amount of crying i can do for you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Felix Fraldarius has never handled grief well and he's sure as hell not about to start now.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They bury Rodrigue in Galatea.</p><p>There isn’t really much of a choice but when Ingrid’s father offers, Sylvain takes one look at Felix’s stony face and accepts the polite offer on his behalf. If the war ever ends and the Dukedom becomes a Kingdom again, it could be a temporary situation and they’ll move his body back to Fraldarius. If it doesn’t…</p><p>Felix doesn’t cry. He didn’t cry when they buried what was left of Glenn and he’s not going to cry now. Ingrid’s crying enough for both of them just like she did for his brother. For some reason, it doesn’t annoy him quite like it had back then or at least it doesn’t annoy him enough that he can tolerate Ingrid slipping her hand into his and squeezing as they lower his father’s body into the ground. The minute they start to shovel dirt down onto the casket, Felix yanks his hand free and walks away without a word to anyone.</p><p>He has no destination in mind; only to get away from people who might want to ask him how he is or if he’s holding up okay because he doesn’t give a damn about their repetitive sympathies or their empty words that mean absolutely nothing. He doesn’t know the manor in Galatea as well as he knows the one in Fraldarius or the palace in Fhirdiad but he remembers it well enough to recall that no one usually goes near the river that runs near the edge of the lands traditionally associated with the manor. It’s a decent enough place to go for solitude.</p><p>Apparently, he’s not the only one who remembers or maybe he’s just getting predictable because eventually, he hears two sets of footsteps approaching from behind him that stop not too far away. “If you say anything about how it’s alright to cry or whatever, I’ll kill you,” Felix says in a flat, matter-of-fact tone.</p><p>Sylvain hesitates. “Does that include comments about how you always used to cry when we were--”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Well shit.” </p><p>“You’re an asshole.”</p><p>“So I’ve been told.”</p><p>Sylvain and Ingrid come to stand on either side of him and for a few minutes, the trio stands there in silence, watching as leaves drop down into the water and float down the river. It’s Sylvain who finally breaks the quiet. “Look, I know you don’t want us to ask but are you okay, Felix?” </p><p>He doesn’t respond immediately, turning the question over in his mind. Is he okay? Does he really even know what okay means anymore? In some ways, he thinks he hasn’t been since the Tragedy. But that’s not what Sylvain is asking. And it’s not what he answers. “We need to stop him.” </p><p>“Do you mean the Winter Soldier?” Ingrid asks.</p><p>Felix’s nod is jerky. “He’s a weapon they’ll keep using against us and that we’ll keep falling for because he looks like--” He chokes on Dimitri’s name and can only manage, “the boar,” instead. </p><p>Frowning, Ingrid says, “Felix, you can’t possibly mean that--”</p><p>“Don’t tell me what I mean!” </p><p>“So you want to give up on His Highness then?” Sylvain asks. </p><p>It’s like a punch to the face and when Felix whirls to look at him, Sylvain’s expression is like a second punch. “Fuck you,” Felix snarls, sidestepping around him because he can’t stand to stay between them anymore. </p><p>Sylvain doesn’t so much as flinch. “Because that’s what it sounds like you’re saying.” </p><p>“Stop,” Ingrid says. “Both of you! Lord Rodrigue wouldn’t have wanted us to--” </p><p>Felix bristles. “To what? To talk about how he died with his last words being about a Blaiddyd? No, that’s exactly what he would have wanted. The only thing my old man would’ve wanted more is to have died protecting him just like Glenn did.”</p><p>She flinches like she’s been slapped. “Glenn’s death was-”</p><p>“Don’t say it,” Felix says. “Don’t you dare fucking say it.” </p><p>Ingrid ignores him and instead takes three large steps towards him so their faces are only centimeters apart. “You’ve been so stuck on what your father said after Glenn died that you can’t see what he really meant by it!”</p><p>“I don’t care about chivalry or loyalty to the crown or--”</p><p>“They fought for what they believed in even though it cost them their lives,” Ingrid cuts him off, never blinking and just snapping right back like they haven’t invaded each other’s personal space. “I thought you were fighting for something you believed in too but I guess I was wrong.” As soon as the last words are out of her mouth, she pivots and stalks off without another word and without even half a glance back to see if either of them are following.</p><p>Felix watches her go for a moment before he kicks at the ground, sending up a small cloud of dust. It doesn’t make him feel better but it doesn’t make him feel worse so he does it again. And then again.</p><p>Sylvain watches him for a minute before he clears his throat and says, “You remember where the training grounds are here, right?” Felix nods curtly, staring at the water. “Great. I figure you could probably use them right now.” He claps him on the shoulder and starts to follow Ingrid but he pauses after a few steps. “Hey Felix?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Just don’t go after him or anything by yourself, okay?”</p><p>For a moment, Felix considers playing dumb like he doesn’t understand the question but instead, he says, “Fine.”</p><p>Both of Sylvain’s auburn eyebrows raise. “Promise?”</p><p>He folds his arms across his chest, annoyed about how childish this all feels. “Yeah, fine, whatever. I promise.”</p><p>It seems good enough for Sylvain who smiles and then turns to jog after Ingrid’s ever shrinking form in the distance, leaving Felix alone with his thoughts. </p><p>He likes them even less than usual.</p><p>There is no way he can face even being near anyone much less talk to them right now and so he drops gracelessly to the ground, pulling his knees towards his chest and leaning his elbows upon them. Everyone wanted to tell him how he felt or how he should have felt when Glenn died and they’re doing the same thing now. They think he’s grieving wrong because he left behind crying in his childhood where it belongs. And they’ll all make sure they know. He can barely tolerate it from Ingrid and Sylvain. He definitely can’t stand to hear it from anyone else. Not today. Not ever. </p><p>So he stares at the water. </p><p>Enough time passes for the sun to be fully high in the sky before Felix finally gets to his feet, limbs stiff from disuse and protesting with every movement. He starts to make the trek back towards the Galatea home and the collection of tents that house what’s left of their resistance. They’ll have to move again soon. Gilbert and the rest are probably already thinking about where. But that isn’t Felix’s problem. </p><p>Felix has one problem to deal with: the Winter Soldier. And he’s going to. No matter what. </p><p>The question is how.</p><p>He doesn’t have an answer for that by the time he reaches the training yard and zeroes in on a training dummy, ignoring the handful of other people present. And he also doesn’t have an answer for whether he’s going to try and kill the Winter Soldier or try and drag him back in chains to wherever their next camp ends up being so Mercedes and Annette can try and fix what they did to him.</p><p>It’s another hour before he realizes he already has the answer to his second question and another hour after that before he admits it to himself as he drops to the ground, breathing heavily and sweat dripping from his brow. His grip on his sword is loose but he doesn’t drop it. He cannot get the sound of Sylvain and Ingrid’s words out of his mind. They keep echoing there no matter what he does. <em> I thought you were fighting for something you believed in, </em> he can hear Ingrid say and then Sylvain goes, <em> So you want to give up on His Highness then? </em></p><p>He knows what Sylvain was trying to do. It was a more subtle version of what Ingrid had said and one aimed where his armor is weakest. And he’s mad that it worked. He’s mad that they both know him this damn well. Dimitri has always been his weakness even after the rebellion when he called him beast and boar prince. There’s no point in pretending otherwise to himself even if he’ll rather cut his sword hand off than admit it aloud. He’s spent his entire fucking life doing stupid shit because of Dimitri. No reason to stop now. </p><p>Which both Ingrid and Sylvain apparently already knew. </p><p>Ugh. </p><p>But he’s not ready to face either of them. Not yet. So he crawls to his feet and starts to run through his training drills again from the start. </p><p>It’s another two days before Felix finally shoves his pride back down and makes his way to the Galatea kitchens with only two false starts. He hates asking for anything but it’s necessary. Package secured under his arm, he finds Ingrid in the second place he checks. Both she and Sylvain are in the manor’s modest library, their heads bent together over a stack of what looks like scout reports but they both look up as they hear the door shut behind him.</p><p>For a painfully long handful of seconds, no one says anything.</p><p>“Here,” Felix finally says gruffly, extending some of Ingrid’s favorite smoked meat wrapped in cheesecloth towards her. </p><p>Carefully, Ingrid unwraps the package and the left corner of her mouth twitches upwards as she realizes what it is. He’s also fairly sure that she can tell what the message is supposed to be mostly because she looks up at him and scoots her chair over. “We’re looking through the latest reports for any hints of where Dimitri might be if you want to join us?”</p><p>“Alright,” he says grabbing a chair and dragging it over. For now, it is enough. </p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>“Report,” Thales says, extending his hand with the palm facing upwards.</p><p>Without hesitation, the Winter Soldier plucks the red gem from his eye socket and drops it into his waiting hand. “My mission was a success. The rebels have been ousted from their hideout.” </p><p>“And their leaders?”</p><p>“Only one.” His master had provided him with portraits of high value targets who work against the Adrestian Empire before he’d left for this mission. He had seen two on the battlefield but the other man left before he could reach him. </p><p>“Which?” Thales asks before shaking his head and waving one hand dismissively. “Never mind, I’ll see it for myself soon enough.”</p><p>The Winter Soldier remains kneeling as his master deposits the round, red gem into some sort of device that then projects a shaky image above it. He does not need to watch. He remembers everything it is going to show perfectly. And yet, he finds his eyes drawn towards the picture as it reaches the part where the swordsman from several months ago yells that oddly familiar name again and then charges at him from across the field. Now, more than before, he cannot shake the feeling that he <em> knows </em> him and not just because the other man insists that they know each other as more than battlefield opponents. </p><p>Thales snorts. “The younger Fraldarius. Of course.” </p><p><em> Fraldarius. </em> He knows that name. Why does he know that name? The feeling of recognition only grows stronger as the recording progresses to the point where the older man with similar features joins the fight and offers a name for the younger man: Felix. He feels as if he knows that too. Felix Fraldarius. The older man is his… father? Is that right? He wants to ask Thales but knows such a question will be met with displeasure. The only questions he is supposed to ask are about the mission. Still, the Winter Soldier cannot shake the feeling that he is right about this. </p><p>“He loves you,” the recording version of Felix says, “more than his own damn blood. More than his own life.”</p><p>“Rodrigue,” the Winter Soldier whispers even as Thales says the name at the same time, his tone decidedly more gleeful. </p><p>Thales glances down at him, seeming to not have heard him. “Are you sure he’s dead?”</p><p>The Winter Soldier says, “They took his body so I cannot be sure but he wore no armor and pulled the lance free. I would be surprised if he lived long enough to find a healer.” </p><p>“Good. That’s one of these troublesome northern pricks dealt with. We’ll need confirmation though.” He turns and summons one of the loitering underlings to his side with a snap of his fingers. “Find a way to be sure that Rodrigue Fraldarius is dead. Today.” </p><p>The Winter Soldier is not the only person who owes their allegiance to Thales who knows better than to question even the trickiest of orders and so the underling bows and runs off without another word. </p><p>The images from the gem have turned to nothing but views of dead bodies and the ground and so Thales plucks it from its place. The Winter Soldier bows his head again and waits for his next order but it never comes. Instead, his master places a hand on his shoulder and says almost kindly, “You did well today.” </p><p>He stiffens, unsure how he is allowed to respond to words like those. They are… praise? Is that the right term? He cannot recall the last time his master said anything but acknowledge a job completed correctly with ‘good’ or a failure with punishment. Realizing he has been silent too long, he inclines his head further. </p><p>“Clean yourself up and rest,” Thales orders him. “You will have your next mission soon enough, Soldier. Dominic, Felix Fraldarius, and the rest of those fools cannot out run us forever. You will kill them like you have killed Rodrigue.” </p><p>“Yes, my master,” he says, remaining where he is until Thales turns and goes back about his business. Slowly, limbs tired, he gets to his feet and begins to make his way back towards his cell. He keeps his gaze down, not wishing to look at any of the others. They will have fear in their eyes just like they always do.</p><p>As he shuts the door behind him and alone at last, he frowns. Something is wrong. His face feels wet. It should not. The blood has long since dried. Carefully, the Winter Soldier raises one hand to his face to brush the wetness away. When he looks to see what it is, he sees only some clear liquid on his glove that he cannot identify. It cannot be rain for he has not seen any for days. He tugs his glove off and brushes at his remaining eye only for it to come away wet again. </p><p>How strange.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. it's hard to be anywhere these days</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The calm before the storm</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Felix is pretty sure that this is what losing his mind feels like. If he’d thought he’d been driven to find the Winter Soldier before, it has nothing on how he has been in the weeks since his old man was killed. When they think he’s asleep in his bedroll on the other side of the campfire, Ingrid and Sylvain whisper the word ‘obsessed’ in the same sentence as his name which… no. He’s not obsessed. He’s not. He has a mission. It’s different. </p><p>
  <em> It’s different. </em>
</p><p>But even if they think he’s obsessed, they stick with him anyways. </p><p>Not for the first time, Felix thinks that he doesn’t deserve to have Sylvain and Ingrid as friends especially since they, for some goddess forsaken reason, keep being friends with him. He’s only got one explanation for it at this point. Someone once told him that the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Maybe the real definition is whatever makes Ingrid and Sylvain keep following him. Sometimes, he thinks that maybe he should try and do this alone. That thought usually lasts about an hour, sometimes two, before one of them says something that reminds him they’d probably hunt him down if he tried.  </p><p>And so they all three persist in this endless hunt. </p><p>The sun is making its way lower in the sky but they still have plenty of daylight left when Ingrid abruptly lands her pegasus in front of them. “We should find a spot to set up camp around here.”</p><p>Felix frowns. “Why? It’s not night.”</p><p>“Because we’re near the meeting point.”</p><p>“Isn’t that on Friday?”</p><p>Swinging her leg around in a graceful dismount, Ingrid says, “Felix, it is Friday.” </p><p>“Oh.” He doesn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed. Much less gracefully, he slides off his horse, the same mare who’s been putting up with him for years now and who somehow made it out of the ambush too. He goes through the all too familiar motions of unsaddling and briskly rubbing her down only for her to try and nip at his hair. “Jerk,” he mutters, hopping back out of her reach. The mare merely snorts at him and makes a half-hearted bite at his sleeve before dropping her head to graze. </p><p>“If she hated you, she would have bucked you off ages ago,” Ingrid says from where she’s seeing to her pegasus several paces away. The white creature has its head bent and rubs against her affectionately, bringing an increasingly rare smile to Ingrid’s face. </p><p>“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Felix asks.</p><p>As the pegasus raises its head again, she presses a kiss to its nose before turning to look at him. “No.”</p><p>He’s not entirely sure whether he’s making a face more at her or the mare as he hoists his saddlebags over his shoulder and leaves Ingrid to commune with the equines. </p><p>They’ve mostly got the campsite set up, including leaving space for Mercedes and Annette’s tent and horses, when Sylvain’s head snaps up, staring at some point in the distance. Felix’s mouth is half open, ready to ask what’s got him acting so strange when brightly colored sparks appear in the air above the trees. “Mercedes,” Sylvain breathes more than says, grabbing his lance and sprinting towards the sound of fighting.</p><p>Felix and Ingrid exchange looks, holding a silent conversation before Ingrid sighs and says, “Go. I’ll stay with the horses.”</p><p>He doesn’t need to be told twice and takes off after Sylvain, drawing his sword as he does. The skirmish isn’t all that far away from their campsite so in a way, it’s probably good that the Adrestian soldiers came across Annette and Mercedes first. The mages stand back to back, weapons of choice in hand. They’re clearly outnumbered at least two to one even with Felix and Sylvain there but they seem to have it under control. Annette wields magic while Mercedes has her bow drawn, taking a moment to line up her shot before releasing each arrow. They probably didn’t need the help but both men leap into the fray anyways. Against the four of them, the Adrestians don’t stand a chance.</p><p>He’s poised to make the finishing strike when the soldier crumples to the ground in front of him, smelling slightly singed. Glowering, Felix says, “I had him.”</p><p>“I know.” Annette beams at him before launching herself forward to hug him. “Hi Felix!”</p><p>Carefully, he pats her on the back with his free hand before extracting himself. “Hello Annette. Were they tracking you?” </p><p>She exchanges looks with Mercedes before shaking her head. “No, I think we all just sort of stumbled into each other.” </p><p>“If they were following us, I think they would have attacked us sooner,” Mercedes says. “Or else waited until we led them to you.”</p><p>It makes sense so Felix shrugs and crouches down to start the usual post-battle checking of the bodies. Rifling through the pockets of dead men for coins and any orders, maps, or whatever they might have has long since become an old habit. Most of the time, it isn’t anything worth the effort but every now and then, they’re lucky. </p><p>“Hey! This one’s still alive!’ Sylvain exclaims from a few meters away. </p><p>In an instant, Felix scrambles towards him, all but on all fours and sliding the last bit. Sylvain doesn’t acknowledge the dirt Felix accidentally kicks on him, one hand staunching the blood from an arrow wound on the man’s stomach. It’s a miracle he’s still alive but he won’t be for very long. </p><p>“Just kill me and get it over with, Gautier,” the soldier says through gritted teeth. </p><p>“If you answer our questions then I can help with the pain,” Mercedes says from the other side of his prone form. Idly, Felix wonders if she could save him. Not that he deserves it. The soldier’s eyes flit between her and Sylvain before he just barely nods.</p><p>Sylvain moves his hand to let Mercedes take over and asks, “Who do you work for?”</p><p>His eyes go wide in confusion. “What? I… the Adrestian Empire.”</p><p>“<em>Who </em> in the Adrestian Empire?” The soldier says nothing and Sylvain uses an overly friendly voice to say, “Come on, there has to be someone. And don’t say Edelgard.” </p><p>He hesitates again and this time, at a gesture from Sylvain, Mercedes moves her hand away and then it’s like he can’t talk fast enough. “Arundel! It’s Lord Arundel!” </p><p>The Emperor’s uncle. Interesting. </p><p>Mercedes replaces her hand and it glows, making the soldier sigh in relief as the magic washes over him. Sylvain gives it a few seconds before continuing. “And your orders?”</p><p>“We were looking for you but we--” He coughs wetly, droplets of blood splattering everywhere. “We’re not the only ones looking. They want you.” He flicks his eyes towards Felix so quickly that they almost miss it. “Badly.” </p><p>He knows Sylvain’s better at this interrogation stuff but Felix’s already nearly non-existent patience has worn thin. “The Winter Soldier. Where is he?”</p><p>“Felix!” Sylvain says, grabbing the back of his jacket.</p><p>Yanking himself free, Felix grabs the soldier’s tunic with both hands, hauling him upwards. “Where?” </p><p>“Everywhere,” the soldier says with a laugh that devolves into more coughing as he chokes on his own blood, escaping into the realm of the dead.</p><p>Disgusted, Felix drops the body back down to the ground, rising to his feet and stepping away. “Come on. Ingrid’s waiting.”</p><p>He pretends not to notice how they whisper as they finish up checking the bodies and follow him back to camp. </p><p>“We have more supplies for you,” Annette announces once they’ve reached the camp site. </p><p>Both of Ingrid’s eyebrows shoot up as she takes in their very obvious post-battle state. “How many were there?”</p><p>“A patrol of eight,” Sylvain says, grabbing a waterskin from his pack. “The ladies had it under control though. We just made it all go faster.” </p><p>“We appreciated the help anyways,” Mercedes says, accepting the water from him once he’s taken a long drink. “And now we know that the Empire is looking for you.”</p><p>“When haven’t they been?” Ingrid asks rhetorically. </p><p>Shaking his head, Sylvain says, “No, she means us specifically. One of the soldiers recognized my dashing good looks.” Almost as one, Felix and Ingrid make noises of disgust which just makes Sylvain laugh. “All I’m saying is that it’s not like he said ‘Fraldarius’ even when Felix did his whole thing.” </p><p>“What whole thing?”</p><p>“I’m going to get firewood,” Felix says even though they’ve already got some. Maybe if he’s gone long enough, Ingrid will forget whatever scolding thing she wants to say after they tell her the whole story. He’s not sorry about asking. He just wishes he had asked earlier. Maybe then they would’ve gotten an actual answer although he guesses that everywhere is something of an answer. If Sylvain is right about the Empire looking for them specifically, then it has to just be a matter of time before another patrol finds them and, if they’re lucky, maybe the Winter Soldier will be with them when they do. </p><p>He wants to end this already.</p><p>By the time Felix makes it back to the campsite, they’ve already got a small fire going and something cooking over it. Wherever it is that Gilbert’s got the rest of the Faerghan resistance set up can’t be all that far away given how fresh the apple Annette is handing to Sylvain looks. Ingrid’s head is bent over a handful of pieces of parchment, brow furrowed in thought. It looks like more than the few pages they’d found on the patrol’s bodies. The rest probably came from the main resistance too. “Anything interesting?” he asks.</p><p>“Maybe,” Ingrid says, munching on a piece of cheese. She hands three of the parchment pieces to him as he sits next to her. “Here, look at these.” </p><p>It takes a few minutes and some flipping back and forth but eventually, Felix figures it out. “Why do they think we’re near Fhirdiad?”</p><p>“To be fair, we’re not all that--oh hey, thanks, Annette!--far away from there,” Sylvain says from across the fire where he’s helping the women finish up dinner. “Are we far enough away from… you know…”</p><p>Annette shakes her head. “Not really but we’re running out of places to go.” </p><p>Cheese finished, Ingrid brushes her hands together. “This would be easier if they didn’t keep….” She shakes her head. “Maybe we should think about going back to Garreg Mach. It seems like everyone’s abandoned it completely except for the occasional patrol.” </p><p>Mercedes starts to hand out bowls to each of them. “That might work. If we’re careful, of course. Perhaps we could even do something to help people who used to live there.” </p><p>“How can we help anyone when we can barely keep ourselves alive?” Felix asks, the words sounding harsh and jarring even to his own ears. </p><p>“There’s always a way,” she says, “no matter what the problem.”</p><p>Snorting, he says, “Right. Sure.” He hasn’t felt that optimistic about anything since… Consider it another casualty of the Tragedy. </p><p>“We’ll figure something out,” Annette says so aggressively, positive that there’s nothing he can do but nod before turning his full attention to his food.</p><p>They talk as they eat and about more than just the war. Felix mostly listens because he doesn’t know what to say. He knows his judgment when it comes to Dimitri is compromised and it doesn’t help that it’s all he can think of. The only clear thought Felix has left in his head when it comes to him is that he has to find a way to stop the Winter Soldier. He doesn’t want it to come down to a knife in the heart but he’s been trying to prepare himself for the possibility ever since Rodrigue’s death. It’s an easier thought to deal with than false hope. </p><p>They shift around the sleeping arrangements so that Mercedes and Sylvain can share a tent. Ingrid and Felix split the watches between them instead of rousing Sylvain. The fire’s all but embers as Felix sits beside it, sharpening first his swords, then his daggers, and then whatever weapons of his friends that he can find. He’s mostly finished with Ingrid’s lance when a realization hits him. Or maybe it doesn’t hit him so much as he pulls away the sheet hiding it in his mind because somehow, he gets the feeling that he’s known for awhile.</p><p>He doesn’t tell the others once the sun rises and they start to wake and he doesn’t say anything except for farewells as Annette and Mercedes pack their things and ride east. </p><p>“You’ve been quiet today, Felix,” Sylvain says once the three of them are mounted up and resuming their somewhat wandering path north.</p><p>Felix shrugs.</p><p>Ingrid asks, “Is something wrong?” </p><p>Taking one hand off the reins, Felix curls it around a hank of the mare’s mane, making her toss her head in irritation before he releases it again. “I know how to find him. The Winter Soldier, I mean.” Both of his friends stay silent but look at him expectantly. “You don’t have to come with me. I can do this alone.”</p><p>“We’re with you until the end,” Sylvain says as Ingrid nods in agreement. “Just like we promised.”</p><p>He lets out a humorless laugh. “I haven’t said my plan yet.”</p><p>Ingrid asks, “Which is?”</p><p>Felix takes a deep breath, trying to steel himself for their changes of heart. </p><p>And then he tells them.</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>If Felix wants to find the Winter Soldier and the Winter Soldier is looking for him in return, the answer seems absurdly simple: use himself as bait.</p><p>It’s also probably a really bad idea. He knows this because one, he’s not as stupid as some people think, and two, Ingrid told him so. Three times. But she’s here with him anyways just like Sylvain who’d settled on shrugging and saying, “Why not?” since it was clear he was going to do it anyways.</p><p>Here, in this situation, is Blaiddyd territory and, even more specifically, the old manor that was mostly neglected by the royal family even before Edelgard decided to start a war since they’d had the palace in Fhirdiad. Still, this isn’t the first time Felix has been here. The Blaiddyds had used the house as an escape when they wanted a break from being fawned over and the Fraldariuses had gone with them more than a few times. It’s also just close enough to Fhirdiad to fall within the ranges of the patrols but abandoned enough for his purposes which makes it a superior choice to anywhere in Fraldarius. He has no wish to keep take up his father’s mantle as duke but that doesn’t mean he wants to put his people in danger just because he’s hellbent on seeing this through. </p><p>It’s just the three of them here in Blaiddyd. They’ve been here for nine days and left what Felix thought was an obvious trail in their wake. So far, they’ve had to fight off two patrols who seemed to be surprised to see them. He’s really hoping they won’t have to fight a third before the Winter Soldier gets the fucking hint and takes the damn bait. </p><p>Felix hates being bait. </p><p>“Hey, Felix, I hate to even bring this up--” Sylvain says from where he sits on a small boulder.</p><p>“Then don’t,” Felix says even though he knows he’s going to.</p><p>“--but at what point do we try something else?”</p><p>Felix is suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to pull out his boot knife and check the sharpness, a task that takes all of his attention.</p><p>“I don’t mean give up entirely but just… try something else?”</p><p>“We have enough supplies for another week if we keep hunting.”</p><p>“Right.” Almost carelessly, Sylvain jumps down off the boulder, armor plates clattering loudly against each other. “It’s too bad none of us are better shots with a bow.”</p><p>Shrugging, Felix says, “We’re good enough for most game.”</p><p>Sylvain says, “Yeah, but not rabbits. Those things are everywhere but they hop so-- hey, is that Ingrid already?”</p><p>In an instant, he’s on his feet and beside Sylvain, looking up in the direction he’s pointing. “She shouldn’t be back already.” </p><p>“Well, it’s either her or there’s someone else flying towards us on a pegasus really fast.”</p><p>It is, in fact, Ingrid. “He’s here!’ she shouts as soon as she’s close enough to be heard. “There’s another patrol of Adrestian soldiers and the Winter Soldier is with them.”</p><p>
  <em> Finally. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. no other sadness in the world would do</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A final confrontation.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The seven minutes they wait for the Winter Soldier are excruciating. </p><p>Felix checks and then double checks and then triple checks his gear and the sharpness of his blades. That only takes a minute and a half. He’s never been good at waiting. </p><p>“How many are with him?” Sylvain asks, taking first one gloved hand off the reins to flex his fingers and then the other. </p><p>Squaring her shoulders, Ingrid says, “A dozen that I saw. Maybe more.” </p><p>“Keep them off me while I deal with the Winter Soldier,” Felix says as tiny figures in the distance slowly grow larger and larger. </p><p>“Felix…” Ingrid’s voice softens every so slightly.</p><p>“Don’t, okay? Just fucking…” He steels himself. “I’ll do what I have to.”</p><p>For a moment, he thinks that Sylvain’s about to tell him to be careful or something along those lines but instead, he says, “We’ll keep them off you as long as we can.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Felix says. And he means it. And then, one last time, he looks up at first Sylvain and then Ingrid and the twin looks of determination they wear on their faces that he suspects resemble the one on his own face. He doesn’t believe in dying because chivalry demands it or because someone else expects him to but something still feels right about it being the four of them here. They’ve been through just about their entire lives together and the last four years have felt wrong without Dimitri. Even wronger than the years after their first battle. But now it’s the four of them together again. No matter how today ends. </p><p>It’s like the Adrestian soldiers are purposely moving out of the way to clear a path for Felix that leads right to the Winter Soldier even as they charge. More likely than not, it has to do with Sylvain and Ingrid attacking them from either side, lances moving fast enough to be blurs. </p><p>Felix stops several meters away from the Winter Soldier, squaring his shoulders and keeping both his sword and Aegis at the ready. “About time you showed up.”</p><p>Both of the Winter Soldier’s blond eyebrows raise. “You have been expecting me then?”</p><p>“The trail of bodies didn’t give it away? Was I supposed to send you an invitation?”</p><p>“I do not pick my missions,” the Winter Soldier says. Oddly enough, he has yet to draw his weapon. “My master gives them to me.”</p><p>Felix’s lips curl in disgust. His master. As if he was an animal to be owned. “Orders. Is that how you justify killing Rodrigue Fraldarius?” </p><p>His brow furrows as if trying to work his way through a particularly difficult math problem. “Rodrigue… he was your father?” Not trusting his voice, Felix nods and then the Winter Soldier mirrors the movement. “I thought as much.”</p><p>His heart leaps out of his chest and Felix doesn’t trust his voice until he clears his throat and asks, “You remembered?” </p><p>“I…” He blinks and trails off and when he speaks again, he sounds oddly uncertain. “No. I do not know either of you. You are nothing but my mission.”</p><p>“Your mission.” The words taste bitter and he hates them. “Which is what? To kill me?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>Like a fool, Felix spreads his arms wide, leaving himself open. “Then go ahead and try.” </p><p>The Winter Soldier is startling fast when he wants to be and Felix just barely has enough time to raise Aegis back up and brace himself in time to block a blow that he feels in his teeth. Even though a skirmish rages around them, there might as well be no one else in the world aside from Felix and the Winter Solider. Felix and Dimitri. Felix and the Winter Soldier. He doesn’t even know what name he should think of him as anymore but he doesn’t have time to think very hard about it because he’d forgotten how damn <em> good </em> he is no matter what name he’s using. </p><p>As fast as the Winter Soldier can be, Felix is faster and he uses it to his advantage now, darting to the side and steadying himself before launching his next attack. The key, he realized last time, is to keep up his own blows at a rapid enough pace so the Winter Soldier has to focus all of his energy on parrying them and can’t initiate many attacks of his own. But he can’t keep it up forever and when he slows a fraction of a second, the Winter Soldier takes the opening and strikes. Hard. Felix loses the advantage but neither does the Winter Soldier gain it. They are, for the time being, evenly matched. </p><p>Or at least they are until the Winter Soldier swings his sword hard down with both hands and asks, “Why?”</p><p>“Why what?” Felix asks through gritted teeth.</p><p>“Why do you keep insisting that you know me?” Without his mask, he cannot hide the seemingly genuine confusion on his face and it makes him look so fucking much like Dimitri again that it hurts. “Why do you say things that burrow into my mind, searching for things that are not there but drag them out regardless?”</p><p>He tries to bash at him with his shield but the soldier side steps it. “What things?” The Winter Soldier makes no response except to keep fighting and so Felix asks again more forcefully, “What things, Dimitri?”</p><p>“Like that!”the Winter Soldier says, swinging his sword down for emphasis. “You call me Dimitri Blaiddyd and then you bring me <em> here </em> and it feels familiar even though I have never been here and I do not understand <em> why </em>.”</p><p><em> Has </em> he actually said his house name to him before? Felix can’t remember so instead he settles on saying, “Here is Blaiddyd. It’s your family’s land.”</p><p>Maybe it’s just Felix’s imagination but it feels like the Winter Soldier’s next swing isn’t as forceful. “I do not have a family.” </p><p>Felix snorts. “Yeah. Me neither.”</p><p>He hesitates. “Because… because of me?” </p><p>“Yeah, Dimitri,” Felix says as cruelly as he can manage. “Because of you.”</p><p>It’s hard to tell what emotion his words make the Winter Soldier feel but what is painfully obvious is that they do <em> something </em> to him because he starts fighting like a demon possessed. He strikes harder than Felix has ever felt him strike before, driving Felix to his knees and then almost to the ground. It’s only his disregard for his dignity and a willingness to roll across the ground that saves him from losing a body part he’s rather attached to. </p><p>He barely has enough time to scramble to his feet before the onslaught continues. “Something I said?”</p><p>“You speak,” the Winter Soldier says between blows, “too much.” </p><p>Felix snorts even as he makes his own follow up hit. That’s the first time anyone’s ever accused him of talking too much and probably the last time too. But now, he knows what he has to do: he has to push and push and keep pushing and hope that it’s enough. Crack a glass window in enough places and eventually, it will shatter and he’s going to shatter the visage of the Winter Soldier until only his king is left behind if it’s the last thing he does. </p><p>He only remembers the battle around them when the Winter Soldier drives him backwards and he stumbles over a body. It’s thankfully not Sylvain’s or Ingrid’s and he shoves down the guilt he feels for not thinking of them before this. He can only spare the briefest of glances to either side to check on them. Both of his friends are still on their feet, holding their own despite being outnumbered. Good. At least something is going right. His next move is probably going to go wrong.</p><p>In a move he could probably never again replicate, Felix uses his toe to flip the lance of a fallen Adrestian soldier up towards the Winter Soldier’s face and he catches it out of reflex. “Fight me properly or don’t bother.”</p><p>The Winter Soldier hesitates for only a moment before letting his greatsword clatter to the ground and shifting his grip on the lance. “This… this is what you consider proper?”</p><p>He doesn’t respond immediately, focusing his attention more on deflecting the lance strike and following up with a slash of his own. “It’s the weapon you trained with all of your life. The one you were meant for.”</p><p>The problem is that the Winter Soldier is even faster with a lance than he is with that heavy sword but his eyes are caught by Aegis. “A relic?”</p><p>Good. Another crack. “Yes,” Felix says.</p><p>“Areadbhar.” </p><p>He can see the cracks become a spiderweb, splintering across this monster visage. “<em> Yes</em>. You remember it?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Do you remember?” Felix demands again, harsher this time. He punctuates with a high strike, forcing the Soldier to raise the lance horizontally to block. </p><p>He shakes his head, strands of sweaty blond hair plastering themselves to his face. “I never wielded it! You know I didn’t!”</p><p>Sucking in his breath sharply, Felix jumps back out of reach because he’s <em> right</em>. Dimitri had never wielded his hero’s relic in so much as a practice match. That was supposed to wait until he was officially crowned as king. And he’d remembered what the lance was called all on his own. </p><p>Felix Fraldarius has fought for what feels like his entire life. He’s fought since they first put a sword in his hand and he’s fought back against the people who care about him. He doesn’t know how to do anything but fight, no matter how much he sometimes wishes he could be different than he is sometimes. But now, standing face to face with a monster who wears the face of the man he once called his best friend, he knows what he has to do. </p><p>And so he blocks the next hit but makes no follow up swing of his own. And then he does it again and again. </p><p>“Why do you not fight?” The Winter Soldier sounds confused.</p><p>“Because I know who you really are,” Felix says, keenly aware of how those words echo ones he said five years ago. “You’re Dimitri. You’re my Dimitri.” For the first time, he hesitates at the sound of his name. It’s enough. The words start to tumble from Felix’s lips without any filter. “Dimitri. You were my best friend before we even knew how to talk. Our fathers were friends and so we were too. We promised each other we’d always be friends.”</p><p>“I have no friends,” he says. “I have nothing but my orders and my mission.”</p><p>Felix shakes his head. “You have me. And Sylvain. And Ingrid. And all of the rest of the Blue Lions.”</p><p>Shaking his head, he swings his lance and says, “I do not remember.”</p><p>But there is a flash of <em> something </em> in his blue eye and that is all Felix needs. One tiny spark of hope. He tosses aside his sword and uses only Aegis to block the blows. “When we were six, you accidentally broke my nose when we were wrestling and I don’t know which one of us cried harder.” Strike. Clash. “When we were seven, your father taught us how to ride and I was scared of the ponies and hated it but I stayed on that jerk of a pony anyways because I wanted to be with you.” Strike. Clash. “When we were nine, you told me you didn’t care that Glenn,” he chokes on his brother’s name, “was older and that you wanted me to be your shield when you were king.”</p><p>Perhaps it is just his imagination but he thinks the Winter Soldier--no, <em> Dimitri </em> hesitates now before his next strike. And he knows for sure that they aren’t as strong.</p><p>It means Felix keeps going, pouring out his heart like he never has before in his life. “When we were twelve, we were training with real swords. I moved too fast and you didn’t block in time. I sliced open your arm and there was blood everywhere. The guards almost dragged me away for regicide. It was bad enough to scar but that didn’t bother you. You just smiled and said it would be like having a part of me always with you.”</p><p>Almost as if in a trance, Dimitri stops and stares down at his left arm and then touches his bicep where that very scar would be.</p><p>“And when we were thirteen,” Felix’s voice cracks, “when we were thirteen, you kissed me for the first time. You kissed me and you told me that you thought you might love me and I kissed you back and told you we’d talk about it when you got home.” His face feels damp which is strange because it isn’t raining. “Except you never came back. Not really.”</p><p>“Duscur,” Dimitri says slowly. “I went to Duscur. And no one else came back.”</p><p>“What else do you remember?”</p><p>“They killed everyone but me. The king… my father. And my step-mother…” He finally looks up and meets Felix’s eyes. “Glenn.”</p><p>Felix swallows hard. “I’m not him.”</p><p>He shakes his head. “No. You’re Felix.”</p><p>If he has ever been so happy to hear the sound of his own name before, he can’t remember when. “Yes. Dimitri...”</p><p>“My name was Dimitri…”</p><p>“Is,” Felix says firmly. And then he tosses aside Aegis, leaving himself completely open in an act of faith. “Your name is Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd and those bastards do not get to take that from you.” </p><p>“Felix…” Dimitri says, lance slipping from his grip to clatter to the ground. They both ignore it as Dimitri closes the distance between them and lifts one armored hand to cup his cheek. “My Felix…”</p><p>“Yours,” Felix says, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. “Always yours.” He raises up on his toes to press his lips against his, no longer caring if he gets a knife to the gut for his troubles. Instead, Dimitri returns the kiss, hesitantly at first but not for long. His fingers tangle through Felix’s already messy hair, pulling just enough to pleasantly sting as he pulls him closer. Blindly, Felix paws at his armor trying to find something to grab at but he finds nothing that will work so instead he lets his hands drift down to Dimitri’s waist that has somehow stayed narrow even as his shoulders have become impossibly broader. </p><p>He clings to him as the kiss deepens, scared that if he lets go that Dimitri will vanish again and only the Winter Soldier will remain. But eventually their lips part and they don’t let each other go. “Do you remember?” Felix asks, voice barely above a whisper. </p><p>“I…” Dimitri frowns but doesn’t look away. “Yes. And no. It’s like I’m seeing it through a fog.” </p><p>“Do you know who you are?”</p><p>He takes a moment to consider his answer before replying, “A prince who failed his people.”</p><p>Felix shakes his head, the movement difficult with Dimitri’s large hands still on either side of it. “You haven’t. They need you.” And then, even though confessions have already spilled from his lips almost faster than he can think of them, he looks away as he says, “I need you.” </p><p>Exceedingly gentle yet firmly, Dimitri nudges his chin back so he has to meet his eye and then drops his hand back down. “I don’t know if I can be the person you expect me to be. I wasn’t before.” </p><p>The word <em> boar </em> hangs between them unspoken.</p><p>“Yeah… well…” Felix digs his nails into the tender skin of his palm. “I’m not who I was before either.” That’s as close as he wants to come to discussing any of that right now. Not when everything still feels so raw and uncertain.</p><p>He doesn’t realize how long he’s been quiet until Dimitri draws his attention back with a softly murmured, “Felix?” When he looks up again, Dimitri looks so much like the boy he used to know that it’s almost painful. “May I kiss you again?”</p><p>He even sounds like himself with all that politeness hiding what lies beneath. “Just shut up and do it,” Felix says gruffly. The words are just barely out of his mouth before Dimitri bends to kiss him again, one arm wrapping around his waist and pulling him up onto his toes. This isn’t like the first kiss; hesitant and questioning. This feels more like a kiss between two people who know who the other one is. This is, he thinks wildly, is the sort of kiss with Dimitri he used to fantasize about late at night and then pretend he didn’t because <em> obviously </em> he wanted nothing to do with the boar. He doesn’t have to dream about this one. </p><p>Time seems to have no meaning and Felix has completely forgotten the rest of the world around them when they are rudely interrupted by one of his terrible, horrible friends saying, “Wow, Felix. Do you always greet royalty with that much tongue?”</p><p>Felix thinks his response of throwing up his middle finger in Sylvain’s general direction is very eloquent given the circumstances. </p><p>But still, Dimitri pulls away, keeping Felix in his arms as they both turn to look at Sylvain and Ingrid who stand watching them from several meters away. Felix is only somewhat embarrassed that he’d completely forgotten there’d been another battle around them as his friends had fought the Adrestian squad of soldiers who, from the looks of the bodies on the ground, are all dead now. Dimitri nods gravely to them. “Ingrid. Sylvain. It’s good to see you both again.”</p><p>“Yeah, you too, Your Highness,” Sylvain says, hefting his lance and stepping closer as Felix extracts himself to stand at Dimitri’s side. “It’s been awhile.”</p><p>Ingrid hangs a step behind him, a more cautious look in her eyes. “Hello, Your Highness.” She hesitates. “It is you again, isn’t it?”</p><p>He nods, shoulders hunching as if he carries the world upon them. “I remember who I am now.”</p><p>“Good,” she says with a satisfied nod. “I’ve missed you. We all have.” </p><p>Awkward silence descends as they all realize the response Dimitri likely wants to make but can’t because he’s been the Winter Soldier for so long and the Winter Soldier didn’t even know them. Eventually, it’s Sylvain who saves them with how he always has something to say. “So. Are we going to do the rest of this whole reunion thing surrounded by all of this or…” </p><p>“No,” Felix says, looking up only at his king. “Let’s go home.” And he doesn’t even object when Dimitri reaches down and takes his hand around his.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Fun fact: I've had parts of this last scene written since the beginning of August before I even had the third chapter done. And it was hand written because a hurricane had knocked out our power. </p><p>Just the epilogue left!</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Epilogue: still hurts underneath my scars from when they tore me apart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Healing is a process.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Home, it turns out, was more accurate than Felix had realized. He still thinks it’s a risk but since it’s only half a dozen of them and they need somewhere more permanent for Mercedes and Annette to untangle the damage that’s been done to Dimitri’s mind. Fraldarius feels like the best and only answer. When they arrive at the manor under the cover of darkness and Felix sees the faces of everyone once they realize who the tall, blond man with them is, he knows he’s made the right decision. Fraldarius’s loyalty to the crown holds true even now.</p><p>The healing of Dimitri’s mind is neither easy nor takes a straightforward path. Both Mercedes and Annette run themselves ragged as they unravel whatever dark magic made a prince forget who he was. Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix all take turns dragging them away and gently depositing them into beds so they can get at least a few hours of sleep before returning to their work.</p><p>When he can, Dimitri tells them what he can remember about the years he’s been locked away. He knew they'd staged his execution but didn’t know Dedue tried to save him. Most of the four years are lost to him because the dark mages had needed time to work whatever magic it was that turned him into the Winter Soldier. He does remember some things though like how Cornelia is in cahoots with Arundel and how Arundel himself is not what he seems. It’s unclear how much any of this will help them but at least they’re learning what they can instead of staying wholly ignorant. </p><p>The worst days are the ones when Dimitri backslides into thinking he is still the Winter Soldier. Those are the days when Felix and Sylvain have to hold him down with all of their strength until he can be chained to the wall for everyone’s safety, including his own. And they’re followed by Dimitri’s despair being almost tangible no matter what reassuring words Mercedes says to him. Combined with everything he’d repressed until Remire, Dimitri’s mind often does not treat him kindly, even on the good days. </p><p>“I don’t think I can be the person you want me to be,” Dimitri says to Felix after the latest incident, standing with one hand pressed beside the window, leaning on the stone wall as he stares out at the grounds below.</p><p>Carefully, Felix takes a deep breath and tries to think through his response instead of saying the first thing that comes to mind. He hasn’t raised this subject since the last time they met on the battlefield. “You don’t have to be. You just have to be you.”</p><p>Shaking his head, Dimitri says, “Is that enough?”</p><p>He crosses the room and turns so he’s leaning against the wall on the other side of the window. “What is that supposed to mean?” </p><p>Dimitri doesn’t answer immediately but when he does, he turns to look at Felix. “Even before Thales turned me into the Winter Soldier, I wasn’t the person you wanted me to be after Duscur… And now, once Faerghus learns I am still alive… I fear they will expect me to be a savior king and I won't be able to.”</p><p>“Fuck Faerghus,” Felix says, all intentions to think before he speaks going up in flames. “What matters is you and what you want. Not people who don’t even know you.”</p><p>“I don’t want to fail them anymore than I already have by vanishing,” Dimitri says softly. </p><p>“That wasn’t your fault,” Felix says. When Dimitri doesn’t reply, Felix swallows a sigh and clenches his hand into a fist and then releases it and then clenches it again. “Come on. We’re going down to the courtyard.”</p><p>“Felix, I’m not sure that’s such a good ide--”</p><p>“Sylvain’s been slacking off again--” he actually hasn’t been but that isn’t important right now, “--and if you tell him to come train with us, he might actually do it.”</p><p>Training actually does end up helping. Dimitri is starting to wield a lance more comfortably again and knocks both Felix and Sylvain into the dirt at least once. Later that night, Dimitri speaks less of failure like it’s inevitable and more optimistically of what they all might be able to do to wrest Faerghus back from Cornelia.</p><p>Of course, Felix can’t handle all of the heavy conversations about things that plague Dimitri’s conscience, not even with sparring. The first time Dimitri brings up Rodrigue and his voice breaks as he speaks about being the one to end his life, Felix stands up abruptly and leaves, mumbling excuses. He all but runs to the library where Ingrid sits, pouring over a logistics report and says without any preamble, “You need to go talk to Dimitri.”</p><p>“Why?” Ingrid asks, already stacking the documents into a tidy pile and rising to her feet. </p><p>“He wants to talk about my old man.”</p><p>She furrows her brow. “Felix…”</p><p>“Just go talk to him, alright?” Felix says harshly before managing to soften his tone at least a little. “Please.”</p><p>It’s another moment before Ingrid nods and says, “Alright,” before sweeping out of the room. There isn’t a need for her to ask where Dimitri is. He rarely leaves his room.</p><p>Letting out a shaky sigh, Felix drops into the seat she’d vacated and lets his face fall into his hands for a moment. Maybe one day, he’ll be able to talk about Rodrigue with Dimitri. But not today. Not yet. And he doesn’t have to be ready. Before, he had been filled with overwhelming guilt that he was not enough to save his best friend from himself. This time, he knows that he alone doesn’t have to be. </p><p>The seasons change as weeks become months and they’ve long since needed to dig into wardrobes that haven’t been opened for years to find warmer clothing for all of them. Even though it’s been well over a month since Dimitri last had any sort of episode where he thought he was still the Winter Soldier, Felix still finds himself in Dimitri’s room more often than not. Just as his father had wanted, a Fraldarius was there for the Blaiddyd king. He just wasn’t sure that Rodrigue had meant quite like this since he’s more specifically finding himself in Dimitri’s bed at a frequency which can only be called a habit. The history between them, both the good and the bad, hasn’t been forgotten or ignored but after he’d bared his soul on the battlefield, Felix had realized there was no point in pretending like he doesn’t love him. Even Dimitri has taken to softly calling him ‘my Felix’ when they are alone and sometimes when they are not. He does not know what they are or if there is a name for it but that doesn’t stop either of them from falling into bed together as of late, tangled in each other's arms and taking what comfort they can in a world where good things have been troublesome to find. </p><p>It is one of those occasions when Felix wakes in the middle of the night to find the bed beside him empty. “Dimitri?” he says, eyes still half closed.</p><p>“Over here, Felix,” comes the quiet reply from where Dimitri stands by the window, staring up at the moon.</p><p>Grumbling, Felix wraps one of the blankets around himself and crawls out of bed to come stand beside Dimitri who wears only a heavy cloak. He reaches out an arm and Felix happily tucks himself beside him and under the cloak. Dimitri gives off enough body heat that he might as well be a furnace. “Do you know what time it is?”</p><p>Dimitri shakes his head. “I couldn’t sleep, that’s all. You should go back to sleep.”</p><p>Shrugging, Felix says, “I’m awake now. What’s wrong?”</p><p>“Nothing’s wrong,” Dimitri says, bending to press a kiss to his forehead. “I was just thinking about how it will have been five years next week.”</p><p>Felix frowns. The only date of significance he can think of is Dimitri’s birthday but that would be a bizarre way to refer to it. “Five years since what?”</p><p>He glances down at him, expression saying that he should clearly know the answer. “Since we all made a promise to meet again during the Millennium Festival.”</p><p>Oh. <em> That. </em> Felix says, “Don’t be ridiculous. Most of us are here already. There’s no reason for a class reunion especially since there won’t even <em>be</em> a Millennium Festival.”</p><p>“Not all of us.”</p><p>“They’re dead,” Felix says, harsher than intended.</p><p>“So was I.”</p><p>His breath hitches and it’s a long few seconds before he can look up and meet Dimitri’s eye again. “We got you back. <em> I </em> got you back. There aren’t any miracles left.” </p><p>Carefully, almost too carefully, Dimitri turns and tilts his chin up with one hand and says, “Felix, please.”</p><p>And so three days later, he ends up in the saddle of the mare who only somewhat tolerates him, riding towards Garreg Mach with Sylvain and Ingrid by his side again. It’s not as apprehensive of a trip as the first one although they’re still cautious and trade off standing watch at night while the others sleep. </p><p>When they reach the monastery, they’re greeted by the sounds of combat. Ingrid glances at them both before nudging her heels into her pegasus’s sides and flying off ahead. As one, both Sylvain and Felix spur their horses into a gallop towards the village. Maybe Dimitri was right and some of their old classmates (the ones who haven’t been in Faerghus as part of the rebellion) decided to make the trek anyways.</p><p>Felix all but throws himself off his mare’s back when they reach the outskirts, looping her reins around a fence. Drawing his sword, he races into the town and towards the fighting. It’s bandits which isn’t all that surprising. They surround a lone small figure with green hair who wields a large sword made of bone and clearly knows how to use it. With Ingrid attacking from above and with Sylvain and Felix aiding from the ground, they make short work of the bandits. After the last few years, a short and easy fight is a welcome reprieve. </p><p>Their enemies vanquished, there is at last time to talk and Byleth looks up at Felix and smiles like they’d spoken just the other day. “Hello, Felix.”</p><p>Despite himself, Felix smiles too. Dimitri had been right. There had been another miracle left. “Fancy meeting you here, Professor. You have a lot to catch up on.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And that's that. Thank you so much to everyone who's read and commented. &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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